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A HISTORY OF THE
CHRISTIAN CHURCH
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A HISTORY OF THE
CHRISTIAN CHURCH
BY
WILLISTON WALKER
TITUS STREET PROFESSOR OF ECCLEHIASTICAL HISTORY
IN TALE UNIVERSITY
NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
1918
BR
i^fe
Ws
COPYRIGHT, 1918, BY
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
Published March, 1918
To MY WIFE
( PREFATORY NOTE
!N: this history the writer has endeavored to treat the vast
field of the story of the church so as to make evident, as far
as he is able, the circumstances of its origin, its early develop
ment, the changes which led to the Reformation, as well as
the course of that tremendous upheaval, and those influences
which have resulted in the present situation and tendencies of
the life of the church. As far as space would permit he has
directed attention to the growth of doctrine and the modifica
tion of Christian thought.
He is under obligation to many who have labored in this
field before him, but he would express special indebtedness to
Professor Friedrich Loofs, of Halle, whose Leitfaden zum
Studium der Dogmengeschichte has been specially helpful in
the treatment of Christian thought ; and to Professor Gustav
Kriiger, of Giessen, and his associates, whose Handbuch der
Kirchengeschichte is a mine of recent bibliographical informa
tion.
WILLISTON WALKER.
NEW HAVEN, March, 1918.
CONTENTS
PERIOD I. FROM THE BEGINNINGS TO THE GNOSTIC CRISIS
PAGE
I. THE GENERAL SITUATION 1
II. THE JEWISH BACKGROUND 11
III. JESUS AND THE DlSCIPLES 18
IV. THE PALESTINIAN CHRISTIAN COMMUNITIES 22
V. PAUL AND GENTILE CHRISTIANITY 25
VI. THE CLOSE OF THE APOSTOLIC AGE 33
VII. THE INTERPRETATION OF JESUS 35
VIII. GENTILE CHRISTIANITY OF THE SECOND CENTURY ... 41
IX. CHRISTIAN ORGANIZATION 44
X. RELATIONS OF CHRISTIANITY TO THE ROMAN GOVERNMENT 48
XL THE APOLOGISTS 50
PERIOD II. FROM THE GNOSTIC CRISIS TO CONSTANTINE
I. GNOSTICISM 53
II. MARCION 56
III. MONTANISM 57
*
IV. THE CATHOLIC CHURCH 59
V. THE GROWING IMPORTANCE OF ROME 63
VI. IREN^US 65
VII. TERTULLIAN AND CYPRIAN 67
VIII. THE TRIUMPH OF THE LOGOS CHRISTOLOGY IN THE WEST 71
IX. THE ALEXANDRIAN SCHOOL 76
X. CHURCH AND STATE FROM 180 TO 260 83
ix
x CONTENTS
PAGE
XL THE CONSTITUTIONAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE CHURCH . 87
XII. PUBLIC WORSHIP AND SACRED SEASONS 92
XIII. BAPTISM 93
XIV. THE LORD'S SUPPER 97
XV. FORGIVENESS OF SINS 100
XVI. THE COMPOSITION OF THE CHURCH AND THE HIGHER AND
LOWER MORALITY 102
XVII. REST AND GROWTH, 260-303 104
XVIII. RIVAL RELIGIOUS FORCES 106
XIX. THE FINAL STRUGGLE . 108
PERIOD III. THE IMPERIAL STATE CHURCH
I. THE CHANGED SITUATION 112
II. THE ARIAN CONTROVERSY TO THE DEATH OF CONSTANTINE 114
III. CONTROVERSY UNDER CONSTANTINE'S SONS .... 119
IV. THE LATER NICENE STRUGGLE 123
V. ARIAN MISSIONS AND THE GERMANIC INVASIONS . . . 129
THE GROWTH OF THE PAPACY . . 134
""TIL MONASTICISM 136
'VIII. AMBROSE AND CHRYSOSTOM 140
IX. THE CHRISTOLOGICAL CONTROVERSIES 143^
X. THE EAST DIVIDED 153
XL CATASTROPHES AND FURTHER CONTROVERSIES IN THE
EAST 159
XII. THE CONSTITUTIONAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE CHURCH . 164 ~>a**a
XIII. PUBLIC WORSHIP AND SACRED SEASONS 167
XIV. LOWER CHRISTIANITY 170
XV. SOME WESTERN CHARACTERISTICS 172
XVI. JEROME 173
XVII. AUGUSTINE 175
CONTENTS
XI
PAGE
XVIII. THE PELAGIAN CONTROVERSY . . 185
XIX. SEMI-PELAGIANISM 188
"^XX. GREGORY THE GREAT ... 190
PERIOD iv. 'THE MIDDLE AGES TO THE CLOSE OF THE
INVESTITURE CONTROVERSY
Vs-I. MISSIONS IN THE BRITISH ISLANDS 195
II. CONTINENTAL MISSIONS AND PAPAL GROWTH .... 200
III. THE FRANKS AND THE PAPACY 202
liV. CHARLEMAGNE 205
V. ECCLESIASTICAL INSTITUTIONS 208
VI. COLLAPSING EMPIRE AND RISING PAPACY 209
VII. PAPAL DECLINE AND RENEWAL BY THE REVIVED EMPIRE . 214
VIII. REFORM MOVEMENTS 218
IX. THE REFORM PARTY SECURES THE PAPACY 222
X. THE PAPACY BREAKS WITH THE EMPIRE 225
XI. HlLDEBRAND AND HENRY IV 228
XII. THE STRUGGLE ENDS IN COMPROMISE 232
XIII. THE GREEK CHURCH AFTER THE PICTURE CONTROVERSY . 234
XIV. THE SPREAD OF THE CHURCH 236
PERIOD V. THE LATER MIDDLE AGES
'I. THE CRUSADES 238
II. NEW RELIGIOUS MOVEMENTS 245
III. ANTICHURCHLY SECTS. CATHARI AND WALDENSES. THE
INQUISITION 249
IV. THE DOMINICANS AND FRANCISCANS 254
V. EARLY SCHOLASTICISM 261
VI. THE UNIVERSITIES 267
VII. HIGH SCHOLASTICISM AND ITS THEOLOGY 269
xii CONTENTS
PAGE
VIII. THE MYSTICS 279
IX. MISSIONS AND DEFEATS 283
X. THE PAPACY AT ITS HEIGHT AND ITS DECLINE . . . 285
XL THE PAPACY IN AVIGNON, CRITICISM. THE SCHISM . . 292
XII. WYCLIF AND Huss 298
XIII. THE REFORMING COUNCILS 306
XIV. THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE AND ITS POPES 313
XV. THE NEW NATIONAL POWERS 320
XVI. RENAISSANCE AND OTHER INFLUENCES NORTH OF THE ALPS 326
20 ,(\
26X/
PERIOD VI. THE REFORMATION
I. THE LUTHERAN REVOLUTION 3-35
II. SEPARATIONS AND DIVISIONS 349
III. THE Swiss REVOLT . . 359
IV. THE ANABAPTISTS 366
V. GERMAN PROTESTANTISM ESTABLISHED 370
VI. THE SCANDINAVIAN LANDS 382
VII. REVOLT IN FRENCH SWITZERLAND AND GENEVA BEFORE
CALVIN 386
VIII. JOHN CALVIN 389
IX. THE ENGLISH REVOLT 401
X. THE SCOTTISH REVOLT 415
XI. THE ROMAN REVIVAL 422
XII. THE STRUGGLE IN FRANCE, THE NETHERLANDS, AND
ENGLAND 430
XIII. GERMAN CONTROVERSIES AND THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR . 441
XIV. SOCINIANISM 451
XV. ARMINIANISM 453
XVI. ANGLICANISM, PURITANISM, AND CONGREGATIONALISM IN
ENGLAND. EPISCOPACY AND PRESBYTERIANISM IN SCOT
LAND 457
XVII. THE QUAKERS 478
CONTENTS xiii
PERIOD VII. THE TRANSITION TO THE MODERN RELIGIOUS
SITUATION
PAGE
I. THE TURNING POINT 481
II. THE BEGINNINGS OF MODERN SCIENCE AND PHILOSOPHY 483
III. DEISM* AND ITS OPPONENTS. SCEPTICISM 487
IV. ENGLISH UNITARIANISM 494
V. PIETISM IN GERMANY 495
VI. ZlNZENDORF AND MORAVIANISM 501
VII. WESLEY AND METHODISM 507
VIII. SOME EFFECTS OF METHODISM 518
IX. THE MISSIONARY AWAKENING 522
X. THE GERMAN ENLIGHTENMENT (AUFKLARUNG) .... 524
XL ROMANTICISM 529
XII. FURTHER GERMAN DEVELOPMENTS 536
XIII. ENGLAND IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 544
XIV. SCOTTISH DIVISIONS AND REUNIONS 552
XV. ROMAN CATHOLICISM 555
XVI. AMERICAN CHRISTIANITY 564
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS 591
INDEX 605
MAPS
LANDS ABOUT THE EASTERN MEDITERRANEAN IN THE FIRST
CENTURY 28
EUROPE IN THE TIME OF CHARLEMAGNE 206
THE CRUSADES 240
EUROPE DURING THE REFORMATION . 350
PERIOD I. FROM THE BEGINNINGS TO THE
* GNOSTIC CRISIS
; SECTION I. THE GENERAL SITUATION
THE birth of Christ saw the lands which surrounded the
Mediterranean in the possession of Rome. To a degree never
before equalled, and unapproached in modern times, these vast
territories, which embraced all that common men knew of
civilized life, were under the sway of a single type of culture.
The civilizations of India or of China did not come within the
vision of the ordinary inhabitant of the Roman Empire. Out
side its borders he knew only savage or semicivilized tribes.
The Roman Empire and the world of civilized men were co
extensive. All was held together by allegiance to a single Em
peror, and by a common military system subject to him. The
Roman army, small in comparison with that of a modern ^mili
tary state, was adequate to preserve the Roman peace. Under
that peace commerce flourished, communication was made easy
by excellent roads and by sea, and among educated men, at
least in the larger towns, a common language, that of Greece,
facilitated the interchange of thought. It was an empire that,
in spite of many evil rulers and corrupt lower officials, secured
a rough justice such as the world had never before seen; and
its citizens were proud of it and of its achievements.
Yet with all its unity of imperial authority and military
control, Rome was far from crushing local institutions. In
domestic matters the inhabitants of the provinces were largely
self-governing. Their local religious observances were generally
respected. Among the masses the ancient languages and
customs persisted. Even native rulers were allowed a limited
sway in portions of the empire, as native states still persist
under British rule in India. Such a land was Palestine at the
time of Christ's birth. Not a little of the success of Rome as
mistress of its diverse subject population was due to this con
siderate treatment of local rights and prejudices. The diver-
1
2 THE GENERAL RELIGIOUS BACKGROUND
sity in the empire was scarcely less remarkable than its unity.
This variety was nowhere more apparent than in the realm of
religious thought.
Christianity entered no empty world. Its advent found
men's minds filled with conceptions of the universe, of religion,
of sin, and of rewards and punishments, with which it had to
reckon and to which it had to adjust itself. Christianity
could not build on virgin soil. The conceptions which it found
already existing formed much of the material with which it
must erect its structure. Many of these ideas are no longer
those of the modern world. The fact of this inevitable inter
mixture compels the student to distinguish the permanent from
the transitory in Christian thought, though the process is one
of exceeding difficulty, and the solutions given by various
scholars are diverse.
Certain factors in the world of thought into which Chris
tianity came belong to universal ancient religion and are of
hoary antiquity. All men, except a few representatives of
philosophical sophistication, believed in the existence of a
power, or of powers, invisible, superhuman, and eternal, con
trolling human destiny, and to be worshipped or placated by
prayer, ritual, or sacrifice. The earth was viewed as the cen
tre of the universe. Around it the sun, planets, and stars ran
their courses. Above it was the heaven; below tfce abode of
departed spirits or of the wicked. No conception of what is now
called natural law had penetrated the popular mind. All the
ongoings of nature were the work of invisible powers of good
and evil, who ruled arbitrarily. Miracles were, therefore, A~
be regarded not merely as possible; they were to be expect( d
whenever the higher forces would impress men witji the in
portant or the unusual. The world was the abode of inm
merable spirits, righteous or malevolent, who touched human li
in all its phases, and who even entered into such possession <
men as to control their actions for good or ill. A profoun
sense of unworthiness, of ill desert, and of dissatisfaction wit
the "existing conditions of life characterized the mass of mar
kind. The varied forms of religious manifestation were ev
dences of the universal need of better relations with the spiritu*
and unseen, and of men's Jonging for help greater than an.
they could give one another.
Besides these general conceptions common to popular re
GREEK PHILOSOPHY, SOCRATES 3
ligion, the world into which Christianity came owed much to
the specific influence of Greek thought. Hellenistic ideas
dominated the intelligence of the Roman Empire, but their
sway was extensive only among the more cultivated portion of
the population. Greek philosophic speculation at first con
cerned itself wi/th the explanation of the physical universe.
Yet with Heraclitus of Ephesus (about B. C. 490), though all
was viewed as in a sense physical, the universe, which is in
constant flow, is regarded as fashioned by a fiery element, the
all-penetrating reason, of which men's souls are a part. Here
was probably the germ of the Logos (Xrfyo?) conception which
was to play such a role in later Greek speculation and Chris
tian theology. As yet this shaping element was undistinguished
from material warmth or fire. Anaxagoras of Athens (about
B. C. 500-428) taught that a shaping mind (wO?) acted in
the ordering of matter and is independent of it. The Pythag
oreans, of southern Italy, held that spirit is immaterial, and
that souls are fallen spirits imprisoned in material bodies. To
this belief in immaterial existence they seem to have been led
by a consideration of the properties of numbers — permanent
truths beyond the realm of matter and not materially dis
cerned.
To Socrates (B.C. 470?-399) the explanation of man him
self, not ofr the universe, was the prime object of thought.
Man's conduct, that is morals, was the most important theme
of investigation. Right action is based on knowledge, and
will result in the four~virtues — prudence, courage, self-control,
and justice — which, as the "natural virtues," were to have their
Jemiifent place in mediaeval Christian theology. This identi
fication of virtue with knowledge, the doctrine that to know
will invorve dottig, was indeed a disastrous legacy to all Greek
thinking, and influential in much Christian speculation, nota
bly in the Gnosticism of the second century.
In Socrates's disciple, Plata,(B. C. 427-347), the early Greek
mind reached its highest spiritual attainment. He is properly
describable as a man of mystical piety, as well as of the pro-
foundest spiritual insight. To Plato the passing forms of this
visible world give no real knowledge. That knowledge of the
truly permanent and real comes from our acquaintance with
the "ideas," those changeless archetypal, universal patterns
which exist in the invisible spiritual world — the "intelligible"
4 PLATO AND ARISTOTLE
world, since known by reason rather than by the senses — and
give whatever of reality is shared by the passing phenomena
present to our senses. The soul knew these "ideas" in pre
vious existence. The phenomena of the visible world call to
remembrance these once known "ideas." The soul, existing
before the body, must be independent of it, and not affected
by its decay. This conception of immortality as an attribute
of the soul, not shared by the body, was always influential in
Greek thought and stood in sharp contrast to the Hebrew
doctrine of resurrection. All "ideas" are not of equal worth.
The highest are those of the true, the beautiful, and especially
of the good. A clear perception of a personal God, as embodied
in the "idea" of the good, was perhaps not attained by Plato;
but he certainly approached closely to it. The good rules the
world, not chance. It is the source of all lesser goods, and de
sires to be imitated in the actions of men. The realm of-
"ideas" is the true home of the soul, which finds its highest
satisfaction in communion with them. Salvation is the recov
ery of the vision of the eternal goodness and beauty.
Aristotle (B. C. 384-322) was of a far less mystical spirit
than Plato. To him the visible world was an unquestioned
reality. He discarded Plato's sharp discrimination between
"ideas" and phenomena. Neither exist without the other.
Each existence is a substance, the result, save in the case of
God, who is purely immaterial, of the impress of " idea," as the
formative force, on matter which is the content. Matter in
itself is only potential substance. It has always existed, yet
never without form. Hence the world is eternal, for a realm
of "ideas" antecedent to their manifestation in phenomena
does -not exist. The world is the prime object of knowledge,
and Aristotle is therefore in a true sense a scientist. Its
changes demand the initiation of a "prime mover," who is
Himself unmoved. Hence Aristotle presents this celebrated
argument for the existence of God. But the "prime mover"
works with intelligent purpose, and God is, therefore, not
only the beginning but the end of the process of the world's
development. Man belongs to the world of substances, but
in him there is not merely the body and sensitive "soul" of the
animal; there is also a divine spark, a Logos (Xcfyo?), which he
shares with God, and which is eternal, though, unlike Plato's
conception of spirit, essentially impersonal. In morals Aris-
EPICUREANISM 5
1
Itotle held that happiness, or well-being, is the aim, and is at
tained by a careful maintenance of the golden mean.
Greek philosophy did not advance much scientifically be
yond Plato and Aristotle, but they had little direct influence
at the time of Christ. Two centuries and a half after His
birth, a modified Platonism, Neo-Platonism, was to arise, of
great importance, which profoundly affected Christian the
ology, notably that of Augustine. Aristotle was powerfully
to influence the scholastic theology of the later Middle Ages.
Those older Greek philosophers had viewed man chiefly in the
light of his value to the state. The conquests of Alexander,
who died B. C. 323, wrought a great change in men's outlook.
Hellenic culture was planted widely over the Eastern world,
but the small Greek states collapsed as independent political
entities. It was difficult longer to feel that devotion to the new
and vast political units that a little, independent Athens had,
for instance, won from its citizens. The individual as an inde
pendent entity was emphasized. Philosophy had to be inter
preted in terms of individual life. How could the individual
make the most of himself? Two great answers were given,
one of which was wholly foreign to the genius of Christianity,
and could not be used by it; the other only partially foreign,
and therefore destined profoundly to influence Christian the
ology. These were Epicureanism and Stoicism.
Epicurus (B. C. 342-270), most of whose life was spent in
Athens, taught that mental bliss is the highest aim of man.
This state is most perfect when passive. It is the absence of
all that disturbs and annoys. Hence Epicurus himself does
not deserve the reproaches often cast upon his system. In
deed, in his own life, he was an ascetic. The worst foes of
mental happiness he taught are groundless/ fears. Of these
the chief are dread of the anger of the gods and of death. Both
are baseless. The gods exist, but they did not create nor do
they govern the world, which Epicurus holds, with Democritus
(B. C. 470?-3SO?), was formed by the chance and ever-changing
combinations of eternally existing atoms. All islnaterial, even
tlie soul of man and the gods themselves. DeatlTelrids all, but
is no evi£ since "in it there is no consciousness remaining.
Hence, as far as it was a religion, Epicureanism was one of in
difference. The school spread widely. The Roman poet Lu
cretius (B. C. 98?-55), in his brilliant De Rerum Natura, gave
6 STOICISM
expression to the worthier side of Epicureanism ; but the influ
ence of the system as a whole was destructive and toward a
sensual view of happiness.
Contemporarily with Epicurus, Euhemerus (about B. C. 300)
taught that the gods of the old religions were simply deified
men, about whom myths and tradition had cast a halo of
divinity. He found a translator and advocate in the Roman
poet Ennius (B.C. 239?-170?). Parallel with Epicureanism,
in the teaching of Pyrrho of Elis (B. C. 360?-270?), and his
followers, a wholly sceptical point of view was presented. Not
merely can the real nature of things never be understood, but
the best course of action is equally dubious. In practice
Pyrrho found, like Epicurus, the ideal of life one of withdrawal
from all that annoys or disturbs. With all these theories
Christianity could have nothing in common, and they in turn
did not affect it.
The other great answer was that of Stoicism, the noblest
type of ancient pagan ethical thought, the nearest in some re
spects to Christianity, and in others remote from it. Its lead
ers wereZeno (B. C.?-264?), Cleanthes (B. C. 301?-232?), and
Chrysippus (B. C. 280?-207?). Though developed in Athens, it
flourished best outside of Greece, and notably in Rome, where
Seneca (B. C. 3?-A. D. 65), Epictetus (A. D. 60?-?), and the
Emperor, Marcus Aurelius (A. D. 121-180), had great influence.
It was powerfully represented in Tarsus during the early life
of the Apostle Paul. Stoicism was primarily a great ethical
system, yet not without claims to be considered a religion.
Its thought of the universe was curiously materialistic. All
that is real is physical. Yet there is great difference in the
fineness of bodies, and the coarser are penetrated by the finer.
Hence fine and coarse correspond roughly to the common dis
tinctions between spirit and matter. Stoicism approximated,
though it much modified, the view of Heraclitus. The source
of all, and the shaping, harmonizing influence in the universe
is the vital warmth, from which all has developed by differing
degrees of tension, which interpenetrates all things, and to
which all will return. Far more than Heraclitus's fire, which
it resembles, it is the intelligent, self-conscious world-soul, an all
indwelling reason, Logos (Xcfyo?), of which our reason is a part.
It is God, the life and wisdom of all. It is truly within us.
We can "follow the God within" ; and by reason of it one can
STOICISM 7
say, as Cleanthes did of Zeus: "We too are thy offspring."
The popular gods are simply names for the forces that stream
out from God.
Since one wisdom exists in all the world, there is one natural
law, one rule of conduct for all men. All are morally free.
Since all are frfom God, all men are brothers. Differences in
station in life are accidental. To follow reason in the place in
which one finds oneself is the highest duty, and is equally
J praiseworthy whether a man is an Emperor or a slave. So to
obey reason, the Logos, is the sole object of pursuit. Happiness
is no just aim, though duty done brings a certain happiness
purely as a by-product. The chief enemies of a perfect obedi
ence are passions and lusts, which pervert the judgment.
These must resolutely be put aside. God inspires all good
acts, though the notion of God is essentially pantheistic.
The strenuous ascetic attitude of Stoicism, its doctrine of the
all-pervading and all-ruling divine wisdom, Logos (Xctyo?), its
i insistence that all who do well are equally deserving, whatever
their station, and its assertion of the essential brotherhood of
/ all men, were profoundly to affect Christian theology. In its
( highest representatives the creed and its results were noble.
It was, however, too often hard, narrow, and unsympathetic.
It was for the few. It recognized that the many could never
reach its standards. Its spirit was too often one of pride.
That of Christianity is one of humility. Still it produced re
markable effects. Stoicism gave Rome excellent Emperors and
many lesser officials. Though it never became a really popular
creed, it was followed by many of high influence and position
in the Roman world, and modified Roman law for the better.
It introduced into jurisprudence the conception of a law of
nature, expressed in reason, and above all arbitrary human
statutes. By its doctrine that all men are by nature equal, the
worst features of slavery were gradually ameliorated, and
Roman citizenship widely extended.
One may say that the best educated thought in Rome and
the provinces, by the time of Christ, in spite of wide-spread
Epicureanism and Scepticism, inclined to pantheistic Mono
theism, to the conception of God as good, in contrast to the
non-moral character of the old Greek and Roman deities, to
belief in a ruling divine providence, to the thought that true
religion is not ceremonies but an imitation of the moral quali-
8 POPULAR RELIGION
ties of God, and toward a humaner attitude to men. The two
elements lacking in this educated philosophy were those of
certainty such as could only be given by belief in a divine
revelation, and of that loyalty to a person which Christianity
was to emphasize.
The common people, however, shared in few of these bene
fits. They lay in gross superstition. If the grip of the old
religions of Greece and Rome had largely relaxed, they never*
theless believed in gods many and lords many. Every town
had its patron god or goddess, every trade, the farm, the spring,
the household, the chief events of life, marriage, childbirth.
These views, too, were ultimately to appear in Christian his
tory transmuted into saint-worship. Soothsayers and magi
cians drove a thriving trade among the ignorant, and none
were more patronized than those of Jewish race. Above all,
the common people were convinced that the maintenance of
the historic religious cult of the ancient gods was necessary
for the safety and perpetuity of the state. If not observed,
the gods wreaked vengeance in calamities — an opinion that was
the source of much later persecution of Christianity. These
popular ideas were not vigorously opposed by the learned,
who largely held that the old religions had a police value.
They regarded the state ceremonies as a necessity for the com
mon man. Seneca put the philosophical opinion bluntly when
he declared that "the wise man will observe all religious usages
as commanded by the law, not as pleasing to the gods." The
lowest point in popular religious feeling in the Roman Empire
corresponds roughly to the time of the birth of Christ.
/ The abler Emperors strove to strengthen and modify the
\Jancient popular worships, for patriotic reasons, into worship
of the state and of its head. This patriotic deification of the
Roman state began, indeed, in the days of the republic. The
worship of the "Dea Roma" may be found in Smyrna as early
as B. C. 195. This reverence was strengthened by the popu
larity of the empire in the provinces as securing them better
government than that of the republic. As early as B. C. 29,
Pergamum had a temple to Rome and Augustus. This worship,
directed to the ruler as the embodiment of the state, or rather
to his "genius" or indwelling spirit, spread rapidly. It soon
had an elaborate priesthood under state patronage, divided
and organized by provinces, and celebrating not only worship
WORSHIP OF THE STATE 9
but annual games on a large scale. It was probably the most
highly developed organization of a professedly religious char
acter under the early empire, and the degree to which it ulti
mately affected Christian institutions awaits further investiga
tion. From a modern point of view there was much more of
patriotism than of religion in this system. Christian mission
aries in Japan have solved a similar, though probably less diffi
cult, situation by holding reverence to the Emperor to be
purely patriotic. But early Christian feeling regarded this
worship of the Emperor as utterly irreconcilable with allegiance
to Christ. The feeling is shown in the description of Pergamum
in Revelation 213. Christian refusal to render the worship seemed
treasonable, and was the great occasion of the martyrdoms.
Men need a religion deeper than philosophy or ceremonies.
Philosophy satisfies only the exceptional man. Ceremonies
avail far more, but not those whose thoughts are active, or
whose sense of personal unworthiness is keen. Some attempt
was made to revive the dying older popular paganism. The
earlier Emperors were, many of them, extensive builders and
patrons of temples. The most notable effort to effect a revival
and purification of popular religion was that of Plutarch (A. D.
46?-120?), of Chseronea in Greece, which may serve as typical
of others. He criticised the traditional mythology. All that
implied cruel or morally unworthy actions on the part of the
gods he rejected. There is one God. All the popular gods
are His attributes personified, or subordinate spirits. Plutarch
had faith in oracles, special providences, and future retribution.
He taught a strenuous morality. His attempt to wake up
what was best in the dying older paganism was a hopeless
task and won few followers.
The great majority of those who felt religious longings simply
adopted Oriental religions, especially those of a redemptive na
ture in which mysticism or sacramentalism were prominent fea
tures. Ease of communication, and especially the great -influx
of Oriental slaves into the western portion of the Roman world
during the later republic facilitated this process. The spread
of these faiths independent of, and to a certain extent as rivals
of, Christianity during the first three centuries of our era made
that epoch one of deepening religious feeling throughout the em
pire, and, in that sense, undoubtedly facilitated the ultimate^
triumph of Christianity. '
J-
10 MYSTERY RELIGIONS
One such Oriental religion, of considerably extended appeal,
though with little of the element of mystery, was Judaism, of
which there will be occasion to speak more fully in another
connection. The popular mind turned more largely to other
Oriental cults, of greater mystery, or rather of larger redemp
tive sacramental significance. Their meaning for the religious
development of the Roman world has been only recently ap
preciated at anything like its true value. The most popular of
these Oriental religions were those of the Great Mother (Cybele)
and Attis, originating in Asia Minor ; of Isis and Serapis from
Egypt ; and of Mithras from Persia. At the same time there
was much syncretistic mixture of these religions, one with
another, and with the older religions of the lands to which they
came. That of the Great Mother, which was essentially a
primitive nature worship, accompanied by licentious rites,
reached Rome in B. C. 204, and was the first to gain extensive
foothold in the West. That of Isis and Serapis, with its em
phasis on regeneration and a future life, was well established in
Rome by B. C. 80, but had long to endure governmental oppo
sition. That of Mithras, the noblest of all, though having an
extended history in the East, did not become conspicuous at
Rome till toward the year A. D. 100, and its great spread was
in the latter part of the second and during the third centuries.
It was especially beloved of soldiers. In the later years, at
least of its progress in the Roman Empire, Mithras was identi
fied with the sun — the Sol Invictus of the Emperors just before
Constantine. Like other religions of Persian origin, its view of
the universe was dualistic.
All these religions taught a redeemer-god. All held that the
initiate shared in symbolic (sacramental) fashion the experiences
of the god, died with him, rose with him, became partakers of
the divine nature, usually through a meal shared symbolically
with him, and participated in his immortality. All had secret
rites for the initiated. All offered mystical (sacramental)
cleansing from sin. In the religion of Isis and Serapis that
cleansing was by bathing in sacred water; in those of the
Great Mother and of Mithras by the blood of a bull, the tau-
robolium, by which, as recorded in inscriptions, the initiate was
"reborn forever." All promised a happy future life for the
faithful. All were more or less ascetic in their attitude toward
the world. Some, like Mithraism, taught the brotherhood and
THE SITUATION IN THE HEATHEN WORLD 11
essential equality of all disciples. There can be no doubt that
the development of the early Christian doctrine of the sacra
ments was affected, if not directly by these religions, at least
by the religious atmosphere which they helped to create and
tojwhich they were congenial.
In summing up the situation in the heathen iffnrifl fit ^^
corning of Christ, one musifsay that, amid great confusion, and
in a multitude ot forms oi' expression, some of them very un
worthy, certain religious demands are evident. A religion that
should meet the requirements of the age must teach one right
eous God, yet find place for numerous spirits, good and bad.
It must possess a definite revelation of the will of God, as in
Judaism, that is an authoritative scripture. It must inculcate
a world-denying virtue, based on moral actions agreeable to
the will and character of God. It must hold forth a future life
with rewards and punishments. It must have a symbolic
initiation and promise a real forgiveness of sins. It must pos
sess a redeemer-god into union with whom men could come by
certain sacramental acts. It must teach the brotherhood of
all men, at least of all adherents of the religion. However
simple the beginnings of Christianity may have been, Chris
tianity must possess, or take on, all these traits if it was to
conquer the Roman Empire or to become a world religion. It
came "in the fulness of time" in a much larger sense than was
formerly thought; and no one who believes in an overruling
providence of God will deny the fundamental importance of
this mighty preparation, even if some of the features of Chris
tianity's early development bear the stamp and limitations of
the time and have to be separated from the eternal.
SECTION II. THE JEWISH BACKGROUND
The external course of events had largely determined the
development of Judaism in the six centuries preceding the birth
of Christ. Judaea had been under foreign political control
since the conquest of Jerusalem by Nebuchadrezzar, B. C. 586.
It had shared the fortunes of the old Assyrian Empire and of
its successors, the Persian and that of Alexander. After the
break-up of the latter it came under the control of the Ptole
mies of Egypt and then of the Seleucid dynasty of Antioch.
While thus politically dependent, its religious institutions were
12 THE LAW AND THE SYNAGOGUE
practically undisturbed after their restoration consequent upon
the Persian conquest of Babylonia ; and the hereditary priestly
families were the real native aristocracy of the land. In their
higher ranks they came to be marked by political interest and
religious indifference. The high-priesthood in particular became
a coveted office by reason of its pecuniary and political influence.
With it was associated, certainly from the Greek period, a body
of advisers and legal interpreters, the Sanhedrim, ultimately
seventy-one in number. Thus administered, the temple and its
priesthood came to represent the more formal aspect of the reli
gious life of the Hebrews. On the other hand, the feeling that
they were a holy people living under Yahwe's holy law, their
sense of religious separatism, and the comparative cessation of
prophecy, turned the nation to the study of the law, which was
interpreted by an ever-increasing mass of tradition. As in Mo
hammedan lands to-day, the Jewish law was at once religious
precept and civil statute. Its interpreters, the scribes, became
more and more the real religious leaders of the people. Juda
ism grew to be, in ever-increasing measure, the religion of a
sacred scripture and its mass of interpretative precedent. For
a fuller understanding and administration of the law, and for
prayer and worship, the synagogue developed wherever Judaism
was represented. Its origin is uncertain, going back probably to
the Exile. In its typical form it was a local congregation in
cluding all Jews of the district presided over by a group of
"elders," having often a "ruler" at its head. These were em
powered to excommunicate and punish offenders. The services
were very simple and could be led by any Hebrew, though usu
ally under " a ruler of the synagogue." They included prayer,
the reading of the law and the prophets, their translation and
exposition (sermon), and the benediction. Because of the un
representative character of the priesthood, and the growing im
portance of the synagogues, the temple, though highly regarded,
became less and less vital for the religious life of the people as
the time of Christ is approached, and could be totally de
stroyed in A. D. 70, without any overthrow of the essential ele
ments in" Judaism.
Under the Seleucid Kings Hellenizing influences came strongly
into Judaea, and divided the claimants for the high-priestly
office. The forcible support of Hellenism by Antiochus IV,
Epiphanes (B. C. 175-164), and its accompanying repression
PHARISEES AND SADDUCEES 13
of Jewish worship and customs, led, in B. C. 167, to the great
rebellion headed by the Maccabees, and ultimately to a period
of Judsean independence which lasted till the conquest by the
Romans in B. C. 63. This Hellenizing episode brought about
a profound cleft in Jewish life. The Maccabean rulers secured
for themselves* the high-priestly office ; but though the family
had risen to leadership by opposition to Hellenism and by re
ligious ;zeal, it gradually drifted toward Hellenism and purely
political ambition. Under John Hyrcanus, the Maccabean
ruler from B. C. 135 to 105, the distinction between the re
ligious parties of later Judaism became marked. The aristo
cratic-political party, with which Hyrcanus and the leading
priestly families allied themselves, came to be known as Sad
ducees — a title the meaning and antiquity of which is uncer
tain. It was essentially a worldly party without strong re
ligious conviction. Many of the views that the Sadducees
entertained were conservatively representative of the older
Judaism. Thus, they held to the law without its traditional
interpretation, and denied a resurrection or a personal immor
tality. On the other hand, they rejected the ancient notion of
spirits, good or bad. Though politically influential, they were
unpopular with the mass of the people, who opposed all foreign
influences and stood firmly for the law as interpreted by the
traditions. The most thoroughgoing representatives of this
democratic-legalistic attitude were the Pharisees, a name which
signifies the Separated, presenting what was undoubtedly a
long previously existing attitude, though the designation ap
pears shortly before the time of John Hyrcanus. With his
reign the historic struggle of Pharisees and Sadducees begins.
As a whole, in spite of the fact that the Zealots, or men of
action, sprang from them,_lhe Pharisees were not a political
party. Though they held the admiration of a majority of the
people, they were never very numerous. The ordinary working
Jew lacked the education in the minutiae of the law or the leisure
to become a Pharisee. Their attitude toward the mass of Ju
daism wras contemptuous.1 They represented, however, views
which were widely entertained and were in many respects
normal results of Jewish religious development since the Exile.
Their prime emphasis was on the exact keeping of the law as
interpreted by the traditions. They held strongly to the ex-
1 John 749.
14 THE MESSIANIC HOPE
istence of spirits, good and bad — a doctrine of angels and of
Satan that had apparently received a powerful impulse from
Persian ideas. They represented that growth of a belief in
the resurrection of the body, and in future rewards and punish^
ments which had seen a remarkable development during the
two centuries preceding Christ's birth. They held, like the
people generally, to the Messianic hope. The Pharisees, from
many points of view, were deserving of no little respect. From
the circle infused with these ideas Christ's disciples were largely
to come. The most learned of the Apostles had been himself
a Pharisee, and called himself such years after having become
a Christian.1 Their earnestness was praiseworthy. The great
failure of Pharisaism was twofold. It looked upon religion as
the keeping of an external law, by which a reward was earned.
Such keeping involved of necessity neither a real inward right
eousness of spirit, nor a warm personal relation to God. It also"*
shut out from the divine promises those whose failures, sins,
and imperfect keeping of the law made the attainment of the
Pharisaic standard impossible. It disinherited the " lost sheep"
of the house of Israel. As such it received the well-merited
condemnation of Christ.
The Messianic hope, shared by the Pharisees and common
people alike, was the outgrowth of strong national conscious
ness and faith in God. It was most vigorous in times of na
tional oppression. Under the earlier Maccabees, when a God
fearing line had given independence to the people, it was little
felt. The later Maccabees, however, deserted their family
tradition. The Romans conquered the land in B. C. 63. Nor
was the situation really improved from a strict Jewish stand
point, when a half-Jewish adventurer, Herod, the son of the
Idumean Antipater, held a vassal kingship under Roman over-
lordship from B. C. 37 to B. C. 4. In spite of his undoubted
services to the material prosperity of the land, and his mag
nificent rebuilding of the temple, he was looked upon as a tool
of the Romans and a Hellenizer at heart. The Herodians were
disliked by Sadducees and Pharisees alike. On Herod's death
his kingdom was divided between three of his sons, Archelaus
becoming "ethnarch" of Judaea, Samaria, and Idumea (B.C.
4-A. D. 6); Herod Antipas "tetrarch" of Galilee and Persea
(B. C. 4-A. D. 39) ; and Philip "tetrarch" of the prevailingly
1 Acts 236.
OTHER FORCES IN JUDAISM 15
heathen region east and northeast of the Sea of Galilee. Arche-
laus aroused bitter enmity, was deposed by the Emperor
Augustus, and was succeeded by a Roman procurator — the
occupant of this post from A. D. 26 to 36 being Pontius
Pilate.
With such hppelessly adverse political conditions, it seemed
as if the Messianic hope could be realizable only by divine aid.
By the time of Christ that hope involved the destruction of
Roman authority by supernatural divine intervention through
a Messiah; and the establishment of a kingdom of God in
which a freed and all-powerful Judaism should flourish under
a righteous Messianic King of Davidic descent, into which the
Jews scattered throughout the Roman Empire should be gath
ered, and by which a golden age would be begun. To the
average Jew it probably meant little more than that, by divine
intervention, the Romans would be driven out and the kingdom
restored to Israel. A wide-spread belief, based on Malachi 31,
held that the coming of the Messiah would be heralded by a
forerunner.
These hopes were nourished by a body of apocalyptic litera
ture, pessimistic as to the present, but painting in brilliant
color the age to come. The writings were often ascribed to
ancient worthies. Such in the Old Testament canon is the
prophecy of Daniel, such without are the Book of Enoch, the
Assumption of Moses, and a number of others. A specimen of
this class of literature from a Christian point of view, but with
much use of Jewish conceptions, is Revelation in the New Testa
ment. These nourished a forward-looking, hopeful religious
attitude that must have served in a measure to offset the strict
legalism of the Pharisaic interpretation of the law.
Other currents of religious life were moving also in Palestine,
the extent of which it is impossible to estimate, but the reality
of which is evident. In the country districts especially, away
from the centres of official Judaism, there was a real mystical
piety. It was that of the later Psalms and of the "poor in
spirit" of the New Testament, and the "Magnificat" and
" Benedictus " l may well be expressions of it. To this mystic
type belong also the recently discovered so-called Odes of Solo
mon. From this simpler piety, in a larger and less mystical
sense, came prophetic appeals for repentance, of which those
1 Luke I46-"- "•'»,
16 JUDAISM OUTSIDE PALESTINE
of John the Baptist are best known. It was not Pharisaic, but
far more vital.
One further conception of later Judaism is of importance by
reason of its influence on the development of Christian theology.
It is that of "wisdom/' which is practically personified as ex
isting side by side with God, one with Him, His "possession"
before the foundation of the world, His agent in its creation.1
It is possible that the influence of the Stoic thought of the all-
pervading divine Logos (Xcfyo?) is here to be seen ; but a more
ethical note sounds than in the corresponding Greek teaching.
Yet the two views were easy of assimilation.
Palestine is naturally first in thought in a consideration of
Judaism. It was its home, and the scene of the beginnings of
Christianity. Nevertheless the importance of the dispersion
of the Jews outside of Palestine, both for the religious life of
the Roman Empire as a whole, and for the reflex effect upon
Judaism itself of the consequent contact with Hellenic thought,
was great. This dispersion had begun with the conquests of
the Assyrian and Babylonian monarchs, and had been furthered
by many rulers, notably by the Ptolemies of Egypt, and the
great Romans of the closing days of the republic and the dawn
ing empire. Estimates are at best conjectural, but it is not •
improbable that, at the birth of Christ there were five or six
times as many Jews outside of Palestine as within its borders.
They were a notable part of the population of Alexandria.
They were strongly rooted in Syria and Asia Minor. They were
to be found, if in relatively small numbers, in Rome. Few
cities of the empire were without their presence. Clannish and
viewed with little favor by the heathen population, they pros
pered in trade, were valued for their good qualities by the rulers,
their religious scruples were generally respected, and, in turn,
they displayed a missionary spirit which made their religious
impress felt. As this Judaism of the dispersion presented it
self to the surrounding heathen, it was a far simpler creed than
Palestinian Pharisaism. It taught one God, who had revealed
His will in sacred Scriptures, a strenuous morality, a future life " .
with rewards and punishments, ,and a few relatively simple
commands relating to the Sabbath, circumcision, and the use
of meats. It carried with it everywhere the synagogue, with
its unelaborate and non-ritualistic worship. It appealed power-
iProv. 319; 8; Psalms 336.
JUDAISM HELLENIZED 17
fully to many heathens; and, besides full proselytes, the syn
agogues had about them a much larger penumbra of partially
Judaized converts, the "devout men/' wh'o were to serve as a
recruiting ground for much of the early Christian missionary
propaganda.
In its turn, the. Judaism of the dispersion was much influenced
by Hellenism, especially by Greek philosophy, and nowhere
more deeply than in Egypt. There, in Alexandria, the Old
Testament was given to the reading world in Greek translation,
the so-called Septuagint, as early as the reign of Ptolemy Phila-
delphus (B. C. 285-246). This made the Jewish Scriptures,
heretofore locked up in an obscure tongue, widely accessible.
In Alexandria, also, Old Testament religious ideas were com
bined with Greek philosophical conceptions, notably Platonic
and Stoic, in a remarkable syncretism. The most influential
of these Alexandrian interpreters was Philo (B. C. 20?-A. D.
42?). To Philo, the Old Testament is the wisest of books, a
real divine revelation, and Moses the greatest of teachers ; but
by allegorical interpretation Philo finds the Old Testament in
harmony with the best in Platonism and Stoicism. The belief
that the Old Testament and Greek philosophy were in essential
agreement was one of far-reaching significance for the develop
ment of Christian theology. This allegorical method of Bib
lical explanation was greatly to influence later Christian study
of the Scriptures. To Philo, the one God made the world as
an expression of His goodness to His creation; but between
God and the world the uniting links are a group of divine powers,
viewed partly as attributes of God and partly as personal exist
ences. Of these the highest is the Logos (Xctyo?) , which flows out
of the being of God Himself, and is the agent not merely through
whom God created the world, but from whom all other powers
flow. Through the Logos God created the ideal man, of whom
actual man is a poor copy, the work of lower spiritual powers
as well as of the Logos. Even from his fallen state man may
rise to connection with God through the Logos, the agent of
divine revelation. Yet Philo's conception of the Logos is far
more philosophical than that of "wisdom" in Proverbs, of
which mention has been made ; and the source of the New Tes
tament Logos doctrine is to be found in the Hebrew concep
tion of "wisdom" rather than in the thought of Philo. He
was, however, a great illustration of the manner in which Hel-
18 JOHN THE BAPTIST
lenic and Hebrew ideas might be united, and were actually to
be united, in the development of later Christian theology. In
no other portion of the Roman world was the process which
Philo represented so fully developed as in Alexandria.
^ SECTION III. JESUS AND THE DISCIPLES
The way was prepared for Jesus by John the Baptist, in the
thought of the early Christians the "forerunner" of the Mes
siah. Ascetic in life, he preached in the region of the Jordan
that the day of judgment upon Israel was at hand, that the
Messiah was about to come; and despising all formalism in
religion, and all dependence on Abrahamic descent, he pro
claimed in the spirit of the ancient prophets their message:
"repent, do justice." His directions to the various classes of
his hearers were simple and utterly non-legalistic.1 He bap
tized his disciples in token of the washing away of their sins ;
he taught them a special prayer. Jesus classed him as the
last and among the greatest of the prophets. Though many
of his followers became those of Jesus, some persisted inde
pendently and were, to be found as late as Paul's ministry in
Ephesus.2
While the materials are lacking for any full biography of
Jesus such as would be available in the case of one living in
modern times, they are entirely adequate to determine His
manner of life, His character, and His teaching, even if many
points on which greater light could be desired are left in ob
scurity. He stands forth clearly in all His essential qualities.
He was brought up in Nazareth of Galilee, in the simple sur
roundings of a carpenter's home. The land, though despised
by the more purely Jewish inhabitants of Judaea on account of
a considerable admixture of races, was loyal to the Hebrew re
ligion and traditions, the home of a hardy, self-respecting pop
ulation, and particularly pervaded by the Messianic hope.
Here Jesus grew to manhood through years of unrecorded
experience, which, from His later ministry, must have been
also of profound spiritual insight and "favor with God and
man."
From this quiet life He was drawn by the preaching of John
the Baptist. To him He went, and by him was baptized in
1 Luke 32-14 ; Matt. 31-12. 2 Acts, 191-4.
THE MINISTRY OF JESUS 19
the Jordan. In connection with this baptism there came to
Him the conviction that He was the Messiah of Jewish hope,
the chosen of God, the appointed founder of the divine king
dom. A struggle with temptations to interpret this Messiah-
ship in terms of ordinary Jewish expectation, resulted in His
rejection of all political or self-seeking methods of its realiza
tion as unworthy, and the unshakable conviction that His
Messianic leadership was purely spiritual, and the kingdom
solely a kingdom of God, He began at once to preach the
kingdom and to heal the afflicted in Galilee, and soon had great
popular following. He gathered about Him a company of in
timate associates — the Apostles — and a larger group of less
closely attached disciples. How long His ministry continued
is uncertain, from one to three years will cover its possible
duration. Opposition was aroused as the spiritual nature of
His message became evident and His hostility to the current
Pharisaism was recognized. Many of His first followers fell
away. He journeyed to the northward toward Tyre and Sidon,
and then to the ivgion of Csesarea Philippi, where He drew forth
a recognition of His Messianic mission from His disciples.
He felt, however, that at whatever peril He must bear wit
ness in Jerusalem, and thither He went with heroic courage,
in the face of growing hostility, there to be seized and crucified,
certainly under Pontius Pilate (A. D. 26-36) and probably in
the year 30. His disciples were scattered, but speedily gathered
once more, with renewed courage, in the glad conviction that
He still lived, having risen from the dead. Such, in barest
outline, is the story of the most influential life ever lived.
The tremendous impress of His personality was everywhere
apparent.
In treating, however briefly, of the teaching and work of
Jesus, it must be recognized, as Harnj£k has pointed out, that
we have from the first a twofold Gospel — a Gospel of Jesus —
His teachings ; and a Gospel about Jesus — the impression that
He made upon His disciples as to what He was. He began
with what were the best possessions of contemporary Judaism,
the kingdom of God and the Messianic hope. These had been
the centre of John's message. The mysterious thing in Jesus*
experience is that He felt Himself to be the Messiah, and, as
far as can be judged, this conviction was no matter of deduc
tion. It was a clear consciousness. He knew Himself to be
20 THE TEACHING OF JESUS
the Messianic founder of the kingdom of God. Yet that king
dom was not earthly, Maccabean. It was always spiritual.
But His conception of it enlarged. At first He seems to have
regarded it as for Jews only.1 As He went on, His conception
of its inclusiveness grew, and He taught not merely that many
"shall come from the east and west and from the north and
south,"2 but that the kingdom itself will be taken from the
unbelieving Jews.3 Jesus held Himself in a peculiar degree
the friend of the sons and daughters of the kingdom whom
Pharisaism had disinherited, the outcasts, publicans, harlots,
and the poor. Their repentance was of value in the sight of
God.
The kingdom of God, in Jesus' teaching, involves the recog
nition -of God's sovereignty and fatherhood. We are His chil
dren. Hence we should love Him and our neighbors.4 All
whom we can help are our neighbors.5 We do not so love
now. Hence we need to repent with sorrow for sin, and turn
to God ; and this attitude of sorrow and trust (repentance and
faith) is followed by the divine forgiveness.6 The ethical
standard of the kingdom is the highest conceivable. "Be ye
therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven
is perfect."7 It involves the utmost strenuousness toward
self,8 and unlimited forgiveness toward others.9 Forgiveness
of others is a necessary condition of God's forgiving us.10 There
are two ways in life: one broad and easy, the other narrow and
hard. A blessed future or destruction are the ends.11 Jesus
was, like His age, strongly eschatological in His outlook.
Though He felt that the kingdom is begun now,12 it is to be
much more powerfully manifested in the near future. The
end of the present age seemed not far off.13
Most of these views and sayings can doubtless be paralleled
in the religious thought of the age; but the total effect was
revolutionary. "He taught them as one that had authority,
and not as the scribes."14 He could say that the least of His
disciples is greater than John the Baptist;15 and that heaven
1 Mark 727; Matt. 105-7, 1524. 2 Luke 1329. 3 Mark 121-12.
4 Mark 1228-34. B Luke 1025-37. 6 Luke 1511-32.
7 Matt. 548. 8 Mark 943'60. 9 Matt. IS21- 22.
10 Mark II25- 26. " Matt. 713- 14. 12 Mark 41-32; Luke 1721.
13 Matt. 1023, 1928, 2434 ; Mark 1330.
14 Mark I22. 16 Matt. 11".
THE MYSTERY OF HIS PERSON 21
and earth should pass away before His words.1 He called the
heavy-laden to Him and offered them rest.2 He promised to
those who confessed Him before men that He would confess
them before His Father.3 He declared that none knew the
Father but a Son, and he to whom the Son should reveal the
Father.4 He proclaimed Himself lord of the Sabbath,5 than
which, in popular estimate, there was no more sacred part of
the God-given Jewish law. He affirmed that He had power
to pronounce forgiveness of sins.6 On the other hand, He
felt His own humanity and its limitations no less clearly. He
prayed, and taught His disciples to pray. He declared that
He did not know the day or the hour of ending of the present
world-age ; that was known to the Father alone.7 It was not
His to determine who should sit on His right hand arid His
left in His exaltation.8 He prayed that the Father's will, not
His own, be done.9 He cried in the agony of the cross: "My
God, why hast Thou forsaken me?"10 The mystery of His
person is in these utterances. Its divinity is no less evident
than its humanity. The how is beyond our experience, and
therefore beyond our powers of comprehension ; but the church
has always busied itself with the problem, and has too often
practically emphasized one side to the exclusion of the other.
Jesus substituted for the external, work righteous, cere
monial religion of contemporary Judaism, the thought of piety
as consisting in love to God and to one's neighbor — to a God
who is a Father and a neighbor who is a brother — manifested
primarily in an attitude of the heart and inward life, the fruit
of which is external acts. The motive power of that life is
personal allegiance to Himself as the revelation of the Father,
the type of redeemed humanity, the Elder Brother, and the
King of the kingdom- of God.
What Jesus taught and was gained immense significance
from the conviction of His disciples that His death was not the
end — from the resurrection faith. The how of this conviction
is one of the most puzzling of historical problems. The fact
of this conviction is unquestionable. It seems to have come
first to Peter,11 who was in that sense at least the " rock" Apostle
1 Mark 1331. 2 Matt. II28. 8 Matt. 1032.
4 Matt. II27', Luke 1022. 6 Mark 223-28. • M ark 21-11.
7 Mark 1332. 8 Mark 1040. 9 Mark 1436.
16 Mark 1534. »1 Cor. 155.
22 RESURRECTION AND PENTECOST
on whom the church was founded. All the early disciples
shared it. It was the turning-point in the conversion of Paul.
It gave courage to the scattered disciples, brought them to
gether again, and made them witnesses. Henceforth they had
a risen Lord, in the exaltation of glory, yet ever interested in
them. The Messiah of Jewish hope, in a profounder spiritual
reality than Judaism had ever imagined Him, had really lived,
died, and risen again for their salvation.
These convictions were deepened by the experiences of the
day of Pentecost. The exact nature of the pentecostal mani
festation is, perhaps, impossible to recover. Certainly the con
ception of a proclamation of the Gospel in many foreign lan
guages is inconsistent with what we know of speaking with
tongues elsewhere1 and with the criticism reported by the
author of Acts that they were "full of new wine/' 2 which
Peter deemed worthy of a reply. But the point of significance
is that these spiritual manifestations appeared the visible and
audible evidence of the gift and power of Christ.3 To these
first Christians it was the triumphant inauguration of a rela
tion to the living Lord, confidence in which controlled much
of the thinking of the Apostolic Church. If the disciple visibly
acknowledged his allegiance by faith, repentance, and baptism,
the exalted Christ, it was believed, in turn no less evidently
acknowledged the disciple by His gift of the Spirit. Pentecost
was indeed a day of the Lord ; and though hardly to be called
the birthday of the church, for that had its beginnings in Jesus'
association with the disciples, it marked an epoch in the proc
lamation of the Gospel, in the disciples' conviction of Christ's
presence, and in the increase of adherents to the new faith.
SECTION IV. THE PALESTINIAN CHRISTIAN COMMUNITIES
The Christian community in Jerusalem seems to have grown
rapidly. It speedily included Jews who had lived in the dis
persion as well as natives of Galilee and Judaea, and even some
of the Hebrew priests. By the Christian body the name
"church" was very early adopted. The designation comes
from the Septuagint translation of the Old Testament, where
it had been employed to indicate the whole people of Israel as
a divinely called congregation. As such it was a fitting title
1 See 1 Cor. H2-19. 2 Acts 213. 3 Acts 233.
PRIMITIVE WORSHIP AND ORGANIZATION 23
for the true Israel, the real people of God, and such the early
Christians felt themselves to he. The early Jerusalem com
pany were faithful in attendance at the temple, and in obedi
ence to the Jewish law, but, in addition, they had their own
special services among themselves, with prayer, mutual ex
hortation, and "breaking of bread" daily in private houses.1
This "breakingof bread" served a twofold purpose. It was a
bond of fellowship and a means of support for the needy.
The expectation of the speedy coming of the Lord made the
company at Jerusalem a waiting congregation, in which the
support of the less well-to-do was provided by the gifts of the
better able, so that they "had all things common."2 The act
was much more than that, however. It was a continuation
and a reminder of the Lord's Last Supper \vith His disciples
before His crucifixion. It had, therefore, from the first, a
sacramental significance.
Organization was very simple. The leadership of the Jeru
salem congregation was at first that of Peter, and in a lesser
degree of John. With them the whole apostolic company was
associated in prominence, though whether they constituted so
fully a governing board as tradition affirmed by the time that
Acts was written may be doubted. Questions arising from the
distribution of aid to the needy resulted in the appointment
of a committee of seven,3 but whether this action was the
origin of the diaconate or a temporary device to meet a particu
lar situation is uncertain. The utmost that can be said is that
the duties thus intrusted resembled those later discharged
by deacons in the Gentile churches. At an early though
somewhat later period "elders" (Trpeafivi-epoi) are mentioned,4
though whether these were simply the older members of the
church,5 or were officers6 not improbably patterned after those
of the Jewish synagogue, is impossible to determine.
The Jerusalem congregation was filled with the Messianic
hope, it would seem at first in a cruder and less spiritual form
than Jesus had taught.7 It was devoted in its loyalty to the
Christ, who would soon return, but "whom the heaven must
receive until the times of restoration of all things." 8 Salva
tion it viewed as to be obtained by repentance, which included
1 Acts 248. 2 Acts 244. 8 Acts 61-8.
4 Acts II30. « As Acts 1523 might imply. 6 Acts 1423.
7 See Acts I6. 8 Acts 3".
24 THE CONGREGATION IN JERUSALEM
sorrow for the national sin of rejecting Jesus as the Messiah
as well as for personal sins. This repentance and acknowledg
ment of loyalty was followed by baptism in the name of Christ,
as a sign of cleansing and token of new relationship, and was
sealed with the divine approval by the bestowment of spiritual
gifts.1 This preaching of Jesus as the true Messiah, and fear
of a consequent disregard of the historic ritual, led to an at
tack by Pharisaic Hellenist Jews, which resulted in the death
of the first Christian martyr, Stephen, by stoning at the hands
of a mob. The immediate consequence was a partial scatter
ing of the Jerusalem congregation, so that the seeds of Chris
tianity were sown throughout Judsea, in Samaria, and even
in as remote regions as Csesarea, Damascus, Antioch, and the
island of Cyprus. Of the original Apostles the only one who
is certainly known to have exercised a considerable missionary
activity was Peter, though tradition ascribes such labors to
them all. John may have engaged, also, in such endeavor,
though the later history of this Apostle is much in dispute.
The comparative peace which followed the martyrdom of
Stephen was broken for the Jerusalem church by a much more
severe persecution about A. D. 44, instigated by Herod Agrippa
I, who from 41 to his death in 44, was vassal-king over the
former territories of Herod the Great. Peter was imprisoned,
but escaped death, and the Apostle James was beheaded. In
connection with the scattering consequent upon this persecu
tion is probably to be found whatever truth underlies the tradi
tion that the Apostles left Jerusalem twelve years after the
crucifixion. At all events, Peter seems to have been only oc
casionally there henceforth; and the leadership of the Jerusalem
church fell to James, "the Lord's brother," who even earlier
had become prominent in its affairs.2 This position, which he
held till his martyr's death about 63, has often been called a
"bishopric," and undoubtedly it corresponded in many ways
to the monarchical bishopric in the Gentile churches. There
is no evidence, however, of the application to James of the
term "bishop" in his lifetime. When the successions of re
ligious leadership among Semitic peoples are remembered,
especially the importance attached to relationship to the
founder, it seems much more likely that there was here a rudi
mentary caliphate. This interpretation is rendered the more
1 Acts 2". 38. 2 Gal. I19, 29; Acts 2118.
TENDENCIES IN PALESTINIAN CHRISTIANITY 25
probable because James's successor in the leadership of the
Jerusalem church, though not chosen till after the conquest of
the city by Titus in 70, was Simeon, esteemed Jesus' kinsman.
Under the leadership of James the church in Jerusalem em
braced two parties, both in agreement that the ancient law of
Israel was binding on Christians of Jewish race, but differing
as to whether it was similarly regulative for Christian converts
from heathenism. One wing held it to be binding on all ; the
other, of which James was a representative, was willing to
allow freedom from the law to Gentile Christians, though it
viewed with disfavor such a mingling of Jews and Gentiles at
a common table as Peter was disposed, for a time at least, to
welcome.1 The catastrophe which ended the Jewish rebellion
in the year 70 was fateful, however, to all the Christian com
munities in Palestine, even though that of Jerusalem escaped
the perils of the 'siege by flight. The yet greater overthrow of
Jewish hopes under Hadrian, in the war of 132 to 135, left
Palestinian Christianity a feeble remnant. Even before the
first capture of the city, more influential foci of Christian in
fluence were to be found in other portions of the empire. The
Jerusalem church and its associated Palestinian communities
were important as the fountain from which Christianity first
flowed forth, and as securing the preservation of many memorials
of Jesus' life and words that would otherwise have been lost,
rather than as influencing, by direct and permanent leader
ship, the development of Christianity as a whole.
SECTION V. PAUL AND GENTILE CHRISTIANITY
As has already been mentioned, the persecution which
brought about Stephen's martyrdom resulted in the planting
of Christianity beyond the borders of Palestine. Missionaries,
whose names have perished, preached Christ to fellow Jews.
In Antioch a further extension of this propaganda took place.
Antioch, the capital of Syria, was a city of the first rank, a
remarkably cosmopolitan meeting-place of Greeks, Syrians,
and Jews. There the new faith was preached to Greeks. The
effect of this preaching was the spread of the Gospel among
those of Gentile antecedents. By the populace they were
nicknamed " Christians" — a title little used by the followers
1 Gal. 212-18.
26 SHOULD CHRISTIANITY BE UNIVERSAL
of Jesus themselves till well into the second century, though
earlier prevalent among the heathen. Nor was Antioch the
farthest goal of Christian effort. By 51 or 52, under Claudius,
tumults among the Jews consequent upon Christian preaching
by unknown missionaries attracted governmental attention
in Rome itself. At this early period, however, Antioch was
the centre of development. The effect of this conversion of
those whose antecedents had been heathen was inevitably to
raise the question of the relation of these disciples to the Jew
ish law. Should that rule be imposed upon Gentiles, Christi
anity would be but a Jewish sect ; should Gentiles be free from
it Christianity could become a universal religion, but at the
cost of much Jewish sympathy. That this inevitable conflict
was decided in favor of the larger doctrine was primarily the
work of the Apostle Paul.
V> Paul, whose Hebrew name, Saul, was reminiscent of the hero
"of the tribe of Benjamin, of which he was a member, was born
in the Cilician city of Tarsus, of Pharisaic parentage, but of
a father possessed of Roman citizenship. Tarsus was eminent
in the educational world, and at the time of Paul's birth was
a seat of Stoic teaching. Brought up in a strict Jewish home,
there is no reason to believe that Paul ever received a formal
Hellenic education. He was never a Hellenizer in the sense
of Philo of Alexandria. A wide-awake youth in such a city
could not fail, however, to receive many Hellenic ideas, and to
become familiar, in a measure at least, with the political and
religious atmosphere of the larger world outside his orthodox
Jewish home. Still, it was in the rabbinical tradition that he
grew up, and it was as a future scribe that he went, at an age
now unknown, to study under the famous Gamaliel the elder,
in Jerusalem. How much, if anything, he knew of the ministry
of Jesus other than by common report, it is impossible to de
termine. His devotion to the Pharisaic conception of a nation
made holy by careful observance of the Jewish law was extreme,
and his own conduct, as tried by that standard, was "blame
less." Always a man of the keenest spiritual insight, however,
he came, even while a Pharisee, to feel deep inward dissatis
faction with his own attainments in character. The law did
not give a real inward righteousness. Such was his state of
mind when brought into contact with Christianity. If Jesus
was no true Messiah, He had justly suffered, and His disciples
PAUL'S RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE 27
were justly objects of persecution. Could he be convinced
that Jesus was the chosen of God, then He must be to him the
first object of allegiance, and the law for opposition to the Phari
saic interpretation of which He died — and Paul recognized no
other interpretation — must itself be abrogated by divine in
tervention, f
Though the dates of Paul's history are conjectural, it may
have been about the year 35 that the great change came —
journeying to Damascus on an errand of persecution he beheld
in vision the exalted Jesus, who called him to personal service.
What may have been the nature of that experience can at best
be merely conjectured ; but of its reality to Paul and of its trans
forming power there can be no question. Henceforth he was
convinced not only that Jesus was all that Christianity claimed
Him to be, but he felt a personal devotion to his Master that
involved nothing less than union of spirit. He could say : " I
live, and yet no longer I, but Christ liveth in me."1 The old
legalism dropped away, and with it the value of the law.
Paul henceforth the new life was one of a new friendship.
Christ had become his closest friend. He now viewed man,
God, sin, and the world as through his friend's eyes. To do
his friend's will was his highest desire. All that his friend had
won was his. "If any man is in Christ, he is a new creature:
the old things are passed away ; behold they are become new."
With an ardent nature such as Paul's this transformation
manifested itself at once in action. Of the story of the next
few years little is known. He went at first into Arabia — a
region in the designation of that age not necessarily far south
of Damascus. He preached in that city. Three years after
his conversion he made a flying visit to Jerusalem, where he
sojourned with Peter and met James, "the Lord's brother."
He worked in Syria and Cilicia for years, in danger, suffering,
and bodily weakness.3 Of the circumstances of this ministry
little is known. He can hardly have failed to preach to Gen
tiles ; and, with the rise to importance of a mixed congregation
at Antioch, he was naturally sought by Barnabas as one of
judgment in the questions involved. Barnabas, who had been
sent from Jerusalem, now brought Paul from Tarsus to Antioch,
probably in the year 46 or 47. Antioch had become a great
1 Gal. 220. 2 2 Cor. 517.
3 Some few incidents are enumerated in 2 Cor. 11 and 12.
28 PAUL THE MISSIONARY
focal point of Christian activity; and from it in obedience, as
the Antiochian congregation believed, to divine guidance,
Paul and Barnabas set forth for a missionary journey that
took them to Cyprus and thence to Perga, Antioch of Pisidia,
Iconium, Lystra, and Derbe — the so-called first missionary
journey described in Acts 13 and 14. Apparently the most
fruitful evangelistic endeavor thus far in the history of the
church, it resulted in the establishment of a group of congre
gations in southern Asia Minor, which Paul afterward addressed
as those of Galatia, though many scholars would find the
Galatian churches in more northern and central regions of
Asia Minor, to which no visit of Paul is recorded.
The growth of the church in Antioch and the planting of
mixed churches in Cyprus and Galatia now raised the question
of Gentile relation to the law on a great scale. The congre
gation in Antioch was turmoiled by visitors from Jerusalem
who asserted : " Except ye be circumcised after the custom of
Moses ye cannot be saved."1 Paul determined to make a test
case. Taking with him Titus, an uncircumcised Gentile con
vert, as a concrete example of non-legalistic Christianity, he
went with Barnabas to Jerusalem and met the leaders there
privately. The result reached with James, Peter, and John
was a cordial recognition of the genuineness of Paul's work
among the Gentiles, and an agreement that the field should be
divided, the Jerusalem leaders to continue the mission to Jews,
of course with maintenance of the law, wThile Paul and Barna
bas should go with their free message to the Gentiles.2 It was a
decision honorable to both sides; but it was impossible of full
execution. What were to be the relations in a mixed church ?
Could law-keeping Jews and law-free Gentiles eat together?
That further question was soon raised in connection with a
visit of Peter to Antioch.3 It led to a public discussion in the
Jerusalem congregation, probably in the year 49 — the so-called
Council of Jerusalem — and the formulation of certain rules
governing mixed eating.4 To Paul, anything but the freest
equality of Jew and Gentile seemed impossible. To Peter and
Barnabas the question of terms of common eating seemed of
prime importance. Paul withstood them both. He must
fight the battle largely alone, for Antioch seems to have held
with Jerusalem in this matter of intercourse at table.
1 Acts 151. z Gal 21-10. 3 Gal. 211-16. 4 Acts 158-29.
Longitude East
LANDS ABOUT THE
EASTERN MEDITERRANEAN
IN THE FIRST CENTURY
.Roman '<*>.
English
Scales
9
L I B Y A
00 50 O
from
Greenwich
PAUL THE MISSIONARY 29
Then followed the brief years of Paul's greatest missionary
activity, and the period to which we owe all his epistles.
Taking with him a Jerusalem Christian, of Roman citizenship,
Silas by name, he separated from Barnabas by reason of dis
agreement regarding eating, and also by dissension regarding
the conduct of 'Barnabas's cousin, Mark.1 A journey through
the region of Galatia brought him Timothy as an assistant.
Unable to labor in western Asia Minor, Paul and his companions
now entered Macedonia, founding churches in Philippi and
Thessalonica, being coldly received in Athens, and spending
eighteen months in successful work in Corinth (probably 51-
53). Meanwhile the Judaizers had been undermining his
apostolic authority in Galatia, and from Corinth he wrote to
these churches his great epistle vindicating not merely his
own ministry, but the freedom of Christianity from all obliga
tion to the Jewish law. It was the charter of a universal
Christianity. To the Thessalonians he also wrote, meeting
their peculiar difficulties regarding persecution and the ex
pected coming of Christ.
Taking Aquila and Priscilla, who had become his fellow la
borers in Corinth, with him to Ephesus, Paul left them there and
made a hurried visit to Jerusalem and Antioch. On his return
to Ephesus, where Christianity had already been planted, he
began a ministry there of three years' duration (53?-56?).
Largely successful, it was also full of opposition and of such peril
that Paul "despaired even of life"2 and ultimately had to flee.
The Apostles' burdens were but increased during this stay at
Ephesus by moral delinquencies, party strife, and consequent
rejection of his authority in Corinth. These led not merely
to his significant letters to the Corinthiam, but on departure
from Ephesus, to a stay of three months in Corinth itself. His
authority was restored. In this Corinthian sojourn he wrote
the greatest of his epistles, that to the Romans.
Meanwhile Paul had never ceased to hope that the breach
between him and his Gentile Christians and the rank and file
of the Jerusalem church could be healed. As a thank-oft'ering
for what the Gentiles owed to the parent community, he had
been collecting a contribution from his Gentile converts.
This, in spite of obvious peril, he determined to take to Jeru
salem. Of the reception of this gift and of the course of Paul's
1 Acts 1536-40. 2 2 Cor. I8.
30 PAUL'S IMPRISONMENT AND DEATH
negotiations nothing is known ; but the Apostle himself was
speedily arrested in Jerusalem and sent a prisoner of the
Roman Government to Csesarea, doubtless as an inciter of riot
ing. Two years' imprisonment (57?-59?) led to no decisive
result, since Paul exercised his right of appeal to the imperial
tribunal at Rome, and were followed by his adventurous jour
ney to the capital as a prisoner. At Rome he lived in custody,
part of the time at least in his own hired lodging, for two
years (60?-62?). Here he wrote to his beloved churches our
Ephesians, Colossians, Philippians, and briefer letters to
Philemon and to Timothy (the second epistle). Whether he was
released from imprisonment and made further journeys is a
problem which still divides the opinion of scholars, but the
weight of such slight evidence as there is appears to be against
it. There is no reason to doubt the tradition that he was
beheaded on the Ostian way outside of Rome ; but the year is
uncertain. Tradition places his martyrdom in connection
with the great Neronian persecution of 64. It was not con
joined in place with that savage attack, and may well have
occurred a little earlier without being dissociated in later view
from that event.
Paul's heroic battle for a universal, non-legalistic Christi
anity has been sufficiently indicated. His Christology will be
considered in another connection.1 Was he the founder or
the remaker of Christian theology? He would himself ear
nestly have repudiated these imputations. Yet an interpreta
tion by a trained mind was sure to present the simple faith of
primitive Christianity in somewhat altered form. Though
Paul wrought into Christian theology much that came from his
own rabbinic learning and Hellenic experience, his profound
Christian feeling led him into a deeper insight into the mind
of Christ than was possessed by any other of the early disciples.
Paul the theologian is often at variance with the picture of
Christ presented by the Gospels. Paul the Christian is pro
foundly at one.
Paul's conception of freedom from the Jewish law was as far
as possible from any antinomian undervaluation of morality.
If the old law had passed away, the Christian is under "the
law of the Spirit of life." He who has the Spirit dwelling in
him, will mind "the things of the Spirit," and will "mortify
1 Section VII.
PAUL'S TEACHING 31
the deeds of the body." 1 Paul evidently devoted much of
his training of converts to moral instruction. He has a dis
tinct theory of the process of salvation. By nature men are
children of the first Adam, and share his inheritance of sin;2
by adoption (a Roman idea) we are children of God and par
takers of the blessings of the second Adam, Christ.3 These
blessings have special connection with Christ's death and
resurrection. To Paul, these two events stand forth as trans
actions of transcendent significance. His attitude is well ex
pressed in Gal. 614: "Far be it from me to glory save in the
cross of our Lord Jesus Christ"; and the reason for this glo
rying is twofold, that sin is thereby forgiven and redemption
wrought,4 and that it is the source and motive of the new
life of faith and love.5 This degree of emphasis on Christ's
death was certainly new. To Paul the resurrection was no
less important. It was the evidence that Jesus is the Son
of God,6 the promise of our own resurrection,7 and the guar
antee of men's renewed spiritual life.8 Hence Paul preached
"Jesus Christ and Him crucified,"9 or "Jesus and the resur
rection."10
The power by which men become children of the second Adam
is a free gift of God through Christ. It is wholly undeserved
grace.11 This God sends to whom He will, and withholds from
whom He will.12 The condition of the reception of grace on
man's part is faith.13 "If thou shalt confess with thy mouth
Jesus as Lord, and shalt believe in thy heart that God raised
Him from the dead, thou shalt be saved." 14 This doctrine is
of great importance, for it makes the essence of the Christian
life not any mere belie* about Christ, nor any purely forensic
justification, as Protestants have often interpreted Paul, but
a vital, personal relationship. The designation of Jesus as
"Lord" was one, as Bousset has pointed out,13 which had its
rise in the Gentile churches of Syria, not impossibly in Antioch,
and was the natural expression of those *ho had long been
accustomed to employ it regarding :ieir highest objects of
veneration for their devotion to then new Master. To Paul,
1 Romans 82- 5- 13. 2 Romans 51J-19. 3 Romans 816-17 ; 1 Cor. 1546.
* Romans 324-26. 6 Gel 2». • Romans V.
7 1 Cor. 151249. 8 Romans 64-11. ' 1 Cor. 2*.
10 Acts 1718. " Romans 3M.
13 Romans 326-28. 14 Romans 10°. » Kyrioa Christos, Gottingen, 1913.
32 PAUL'S TEACHING
it is an epitome of his faith. Christ is the "Lord/' himself the
"slave." Nor is confidence in the resurrection less necessary,
as the crowning proof of Christ's divine Sonship.1
The Christian life is one filled with the Spirit. All graces
are from Him, all gifts and guidance. Man having the Spirit
is a new creature. Living the life of the Spirit, he no longer
lives that of the "flesh." But that all-transforming and in
dwelling Spirit is Christ Himself. "The Lord is the Spirit."2
If Christ thus stands in such relation to the individual disciple
that union with Him is necessary for all true Christian life,
He is in no less vital association with the whole body of be
lievers — the church. Paul uses the word church in two senses,
as designating the local congregation, Philippi, Corinth, Rome,
"the church that is in their house," and as indicating the whole
body of believers, the true Israel. In the latter sense it is the
body of Christ, of which each local congregation is a part.3
From Christ come all officers and helpers, all spiritual gifts.4
He is the source of the life of the church, and these gifts are
evidence of His glorified lordship.5
Like the early disciples generally, Paul thought the. coming
of Christ and the end of the existing world-order near; though
his views underwent some modification. In his earlier epistles
he evidently believed it would happen in his lifetime.6 As
he came toward the close of his work he felt it likely that he
would die before the Lord's coming.7 Regarding the resur
rection, Paul had the greatest confidence. Here, however,
Hebrew and Greek ideas were at variance. The Hebrew con
ception was a living again of the flesh. The Greek, the im
mortality of the soul. Paul does not always make his posi
tion clear. Romans 811 looks like the Hebrew thought; but
the great passage in 1 Cor. 1535'54 points to the Greek. A
judgment is for all,8 and even among the saved there will be
great differences.9 Tbe end of all things is the subjection of
all, even Christ, to God the Father.10
1 Romans I4. 2 2 Cor. 317.
*Eph. I22- 2S; Col I18. *Eph. 411; 1 Cor. 124-11.
5 Eph. 47-10. 6 1 These. 413-18.
7 Philippians 123> 24 ; 2 Tim'. 46-8. 8 2 Cor. 510.
9 1 Cor. 310-15. 10 1 Cor. 1520-28.
PERSECUTION AND GROWTH 33
SECTION VI. THE CLOSE OF THE APOSTOLIC AGE
The history and fate of most of the Apostles is unknown.
Though Peter cannot have been in Rome while Paul was
writing his epistles thence, and some scholars of weight still
hold the evidence insufficient to show that he was ever there
at all, the cumulative force of such intimations as have sur
vived make the conclusion probable that he was in Rome for
a shprt time at least, and that his stay ended in martyrdom
by crucifixion in the Neronian persecutions.1 Such a stay,
and especially such a death, would link him permanently with
the Roman Church. On the other hand, a residence of John
in Ephesus is much less assured.
The persecution under Nero was as ikjce as it was local.
A great fire in Rome, in July, 64, was followed by charges un
justly involving the Christians, probably at Nero's instigation,
to turn popular rumor from himself. Numbers suffered death
by horrible torture in the Vatican gardens, where Nero made
their martyrdom a spectacle.2 Thenceforth he lived in Chris
tian tradition as a type of antichrist ; but the Roman Church
survived in strength. The destruction of Jerusalem at the
close of the Jewish rebellion, in 70, was an event of more per
manent significance. It almost ended the already waning in
fluence of the Palestinian congregations in the larger concerns
of the church. This collapse, and the rapid influx of converts
from heathen antecedents soon made Paul's battle for freedom
from law no longer a living question. Antioch, Rome, and be
fore the end of the century, Ephesus, were now the chief cen
tres of Christian development. The converts were mostly from
the lower social classes,3 though some of better position, no
tably women, were to be found among them. Such were Lydia
of Philippi,4 and, in much higher station, probably the consul,
Flavius Clemens, and his wife, Flavia Domitilla, who suffered
the one death and the other sentence of banishment in Rome
under Domitian, in 95. To Domitilla, the Roman Church
1 1 Peter 513 ; John 2118- 19 ; 1 Clement, 5, 6 ; Ignatius, Romans, 43 ; Ire-
naeus, Against Heresies, 3:1:1; Caius of Rome in Eusebius, Church His
tory, 2:25: 5-7.
2 Tacitus, Annals 1544; Ayer, A Source-Book for Ancient Church History,
p. 6.
31 Cor. I26-2*. * Acts 1614.
34 RAPID CHANGES
owed one of its oldest catacombs. Of this persecution under
Domitian (81-96) few details are known, but it must have
been of severity in Rome and in Asia Minor.1
Yet though some gleanings can be recovered from this period,
the forty years from 70 to 110 remain one of the obscurest por
tions of church history. This is the more to be regretted be
cause they were an epoch of rapid change in the church itself.
When the characteristics of the church can once more be clearly
traced its general conception of Christianity shows surprisingly
little of the distinctive stamp of Paul. Not only must many
now unknown missionaries have labored in addition to the great
Apostle, but an inrush of ideas from other than Christian
sources, brought undoubtedly by converts of heathen ante
cedents, modified Christian beliefs and practices, especially
regarding the sacraments, fastings, and the rise of liturgical
forms. The old conviction of the immediacy of the guidance
of the Spirit faded, without becoming wholly extinguished.
The constitution of the church itself underwent, in this period,
a far-reaching development, of which some account will be
given (p. 44).
An illustration of this non-Pauline Christianity, though
without evidence of the infiltration of heathen ideas, is to be
seen in the Epistle of James. Written late in the first cen
tury or early in the second, it is singularly poor in theological
content. Its directions are largely ethical. Christianity, in
the conception of the writer, is a body of right principles duly
practised. Faith is not, as with Paul, a new, vital, personal
relationship. It is intellectual conviction which must be sup
plemented by appropriate action. It is a new and simple
moral law.2
To this obscure period is due the composition of the Gos
pels. No subject in church history is more difficult. It would
appear, however, that at an early period, not now definitely
to be fixed, a collection of the sayings of Christ was in circula
tion. Probably not far from 75-80, and according to early
.and credible tradition at Rome, Mark's Gospel came into
existence. Its arrangement was not purely historic, the selec
tion of the materials being determined evidently by the im
portance attached to the doctrines and ecclesiastical usages
which they illustrated. With large use of the collection of
1 1 Clement, 1; Rev. 2l°- 13; 713- 14. 2 James I26; 214-26.
THE GOSPELS 35
sayings and of Mark, Matthew and Luke's Gospels came into
being, probably between 80 and 95 ; the former probably having
Palestine as its place of writing, and the latter coming, there
is some reason to believe, from Antioch. The Johannine Gos
pel is distinctly individual, and may not unfairly be ascribed
to Ephesus, and to the period 95-110. Other gospels were in
circulation, of which fragments survive, but none which com
pare in value with the four which the church came to regard
as canoriical. There seems to have been little of recollections
of Jesus extant at the close of the first century which was not
gathered into the familiar Gospels. That this was the case
may be ascribed to the great Jewish war and the decline of the
Palestinian Hebrew congregations. To the Gospels the church
owes the priceless heritage of its knowledge of the life of its
Master, and a perpetual corrective to the one-sidedness of an
interpretation, which, like even the great message of Paul,
pays little attention to His earthly ministry.
r
SECTION VII. THE INTERPRETATION OF JESUS
An inevitable question of the highest importance which arose
with the proclamation of Christianity, and must always de
mand consideration in every age of the church, is: What is
to be thought of the Founder? The earliest Christology, as
has been pointed out, was Messianic. Jesus was the Messiah
of Jewish hope, only in a vastly more spiritual sense than that
hope commonly implied. He had gone, but only for a brief
time.1 He was now in exaltation, yet what must be thought
of His earthly life, that had so little of " glory " in it, as men
use that term? That life of humiliation, ending in a slave's
death, was but the fulfilment of prophecy. God had fore
shadowed the things that "His Christ should suffer.2 Early
Jewish Christian thought recurred to the suffering servant of
Isaiah, who was "wounded for our transgressions."3 Christ
is the "servant" or "child," (TTCUS ®eoO), in the early Petrine
addresses.4 The glorification was at the resurrection. He is
now "by the right hand of God exalted." 5 This primitive
conception of the suffering servant exalted, persisted. It is
that, in spite of a good deal of Pauline admixture, of the epistle
1 Acts 321. 2 Acts 318. 3 Isaiah 536.
4 Acts 313. 26 ; 427- 30. 6 Acts 232- 33 : 4l°. l2.
36 THE EARLIEST CHRISTOLOGIES
known as 1 Peter 318"22. Clement, writing from Rome to the
Corinthians, 93-97, also shares it.1 It does not necessarily
imply pre-existence. It does not make clear the relationship of
Christ to God. It had not thought that problem out.
An obvious distinction soon was apparent. The disciples
had known Christ in His life on earth. They now knew Him
by His gifts in His exaltation. They had known Him after
the flesh; they now knew Him after the spirit2 — that is as
the Jesus of history and the Christ of experience. To super
ficial consideration, at least, these two aspects were not easy of
adjustment. The Jesus of history lived in a definite land,
under human conditions of space and time. The Christ of
experience is Lord of all His servants, is manifested as the
Spirit at the same moment in places the most diverse, is om
nipresent and omniscient. Paul regards it as a mark of Chris
tianity that men call upon Him everywhere.3 He prays to Him
himself.4 In his most solemn asseveration that his apostle-
ship is not of any human origin, Paul classes God and Christ
together as its source.5 These attributes and powers of the
Christ of experience are very like divine, it is evident ; and they
inevitably raised the question of Christ's relation to the Father
as it had not been raised thus far, and in a mind of far subtler
powers and greater training and education than that of any of
the earlier disciples, that of Paul.
Paul knew Hebrew theology well, with its conception of the
divine "wisdom" as present with God before the foundation
of the world.6 He also knew something of Stoicism, with its
doctrine of the universal, omnipresent, fashioning divine in
telligence, the Logos, that in many ways resembled the He
brew wisdom. He knew the Isaian conception of the suffer
ing servant. To Paul, therefore, the identification of the
exalted Christ with the divine wisdom — Logos — was not only
easy, but natural; and that wisdom — Logos — must be pre-
existent and always with God. He is "the Spirit of God,"7
the "wisdom of God."8 "In Him dwelleth all the fulness of
the Godhead bodily." 9 Even more, as in the Stoic conception
of the Logos, He is the divine agent in creation; "all things
have been created through Him and unto Him." 10 Though Paul
1 1 Clement, 16. 2 Romans I3- 4. 3 1 Cor. I2.
4 2 Cor. 128- 9. 5 Gal. I1. 6 Prov. 822- 23.
7 1 Cor. 210- ". s Ibid., I24. 9 Col. 29. 10 Col. I16.
PAUL'S CHRISTOLOGY 37
probably never in set terms called Christ God,1 he taught
Christ's unity in character with God. He "knew no sin";2 He
is the full manifestation of the love of God, which is greater
than any human love, and the motive spring of the Christian
life in us.3 It is plain, therefore, that though Paul often calls
Christ man, he gives Him an absolutely unique position, and
classes Him with God.
If the Christ of experience was thus pre-existent and post-
existent in glory for Paul, how explain the Jesus of history?
He was the suffering servant.4 His humble obedience was
followed, as in the earlier Petrine conception, by the great
reward. "Wherefore also God highly exalted Him and gave
unto Him the name which is above every name . . . that
every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord." Paul
looks upon the whole earthly life of Jesus as one of humilia
tion. It was indeed significant. "God was in Christ recon
ciling the world unto Himself." 5 Yet it was only "by the
resurrection" that He was "declared to be the Son of God
with power." 6 Paul's Christology combines, therefore, in a
remarkable manner, Hebrew and Gentile conceptions. In it
appear the suffering and exalted servant, the pre-existent
divine wisdom, the divine agent in creation, and the redeemer
power who for man's sake came down from heaven, died, and
rose again.
Within half a generation of Paul's death, however, a differ
ing interpretation appeared, probably representing an inde
pendent line of thought. It was that of the Gospel of Mark.
The writer knew nothing of Paul's view of Christ's pre-existence.
In his thought, Christ was from His baptism the Son of God
by adoption.7 That He was the Son of God thenceforth, in
all His earthly lot, is the evangelist's endeavor to show.
There was humiliation, indeed, but there was a glory also in
His earthly life, of which Paul gives no hint. He had not to
wait for the demonstration of the resurrection. The voice
from heaven declared Him the Son at baptism. The man
with an unclean spirit saluted Him at His first preaching as
"the Holy One of God" (I24). The spirits of those possessed
1 The translations, which imply that, in Romans 95 and Titus 213, are for
various reasons to be rejected as Pauline.
2 2 Cor. 521. 3 Romans 839, 57- 8 ; Gal. 220. 4 Philippians 26-11.
6 2 Cor. 519. 6 Romans I4. 7 Mark I9-11.
38 CHRISTOLOGIES OF THE GOSPELS
cried, "Thou art the Son of God" (312). He was transfigured
before Peter, James, and John, while a heavenly voice pro
claims: "This is my beloved Son" (92'8). The evangelist can
only explain the lack of universal recognition in Christ's life
time on earth by the declaration that He charged spirits and
disciples not to make Him known (e. g. I34, 312, 543, 99). It is
evident that this is a very different interpretation from that
of Paul.
Mark's view was evidently unsatisfactory to his own age.
It had no real theory of the incarnation. It does not trace
back the sonship far enough. If that sonship was manifested
in a portion of Christ's life, why not in all His life ? That im
pressed the writers of the next two Gospels, Matthew and Luke.
Like Mark, they have no trace of Paul's doctrine of pre-exist-
ence — their authors did not move in Paul's theological or phil
osophical realm. But they make the manifestation of Christ's
divine sonship date from the very inception of His earthly
existence. He was of supernatural birth. Like Mark, both
regard His life as other than one of humiliation only.
Yet for minds steeped in the thoughts of Paul even these
could not be satisfying interpretations. A fourth Gospel ap
peared about 95-110, probably in Ephesus, which sprang into
favor, not only on account of its profoundly spiritual inter
pretation of the meaning of Christ, but because it combined
in one harmonious presentation the divided elements of the
Christologies which had thus far been current. In the Gospel
which bears the name of John, the pre-existence and creative
activity of Christ is as fully taught as by Paul. Christ is the
Logos, the Word who "was with God, and the Word was
God"; "All things were made by Him" (I1- 3). There is no
hint of virgin birth, as in Matthew and Luke, but a real, though
unexplained, incarnation is taught: "The Word became flesh
and dwelt among us" (I14). The tendency of the earlier Gos
pels to behold glory, as well as humiliation, in Christ's earthly
life is carried much further. That life is one primarily in
which He "manifested His glory" (211, see I14). He declares
to the woman of Samaria that He is the Messiah (426). He is
regarded as "making Himself equal with God" (518). He re
members the glory of His pre-existence (175). He walks
through life triumphantly conscious of His high divine mis
sion. In the account of the Garden of Gethsemane no note
OTHER CHRISTOLOGIES 39
appears of the pathetic prayer that this cup pass from Him.1
In the story of the^ crucifixion there is no anguished cry : " My
God, why hast thou forsaken me";2 rather, as with a sense of
a predetermined work accomplished, He dies with the words :
"It is finished."3 Beyond question this Christology was
eminently satisfactory to the second century. It gave an
explanation, natural to the age, of that lordship which Chris
tian feeling universally ascribed to Christ. It united the most
valued portions of the older Christologies. Though much dis
sent from it was to appear, it was formative of what was to
triumph as orthodoxy.
In spite of this Johannine Christology, traces of more naive
and less philosophic interpretations survived. Such were those
of the obscure relics of extreme Judaizing Christianity, known
in the second century as Ebionites. To them, Jesus was the
son of Joseph and Mary, who so completely fulfilled the Jew
ish law that God chose Him to be the Messiah. He improved
and added to the law, and would come again to found a Messi
anic kingdom for the Jews. Such, in a very different way,
was Hennas of Rome (115-140), who strove to combine Paul's
doctrine of "the holy pre-existent Spirit which created the whole
creation," 4 with that of the suffering and exalted servant.
The "servant," pictured as a slave in the vineyard of God,
is the "flesh in which the holy Spirit dwelt . . . walking hon
orably in holiness and purity, without in any way defiling the
Spirit." 5 As a reward, God chose the "flesh," i. e., Jesus,
"as a partner with the holy Spirit"; but this recompense is
not peculiar to Him. He is but a forerunner, "for all flesh,
which is found undefiled and unspotted, wherein the holy
Spirit dwelt, shall receive a reward." 6 This is, of course, in
a sense adoptionist. It was not easy for unphilosophic minds
to combine in one harmonious picture the Jesus of history
and the Christ of experience; and even in philosophic inter
pretations this contrast had much to do with the rise and wide
spread of Gnosticism in the second century.
The significance of the Gospel according to John in the de
velopment of Christology has been noted ; its influence in the
interpretation of salvation was no less important. With it
are to be associated the Johannine Epistles. This literature
1 181-11 ; compare Mark 1432-42. 2 Mark 1534. 8 John 1930.
*Sim.t 56. *Ibid. * Ibid.
40 THE NATURE OF SALVATION
probably had its rise in a region, Ephesus, where Paul long
worked. Its position is Pauline, but developed in the direc
tion of a much intenser mysticism. This mysticism centres
about the thoughts of life and union with Christ, both of
which are Pauline, and yet treated in a way unlike that of
Paul. Life is the great word of the Johannine literature.
He who knows the Christ of present experience has life. " This
is life eternal, that they should know Thee, the only true God,
and Him whom Thou didst send, even Jesus Christ.3'1 For
the writer, the world is divisible into two simple classes : " He
that hath the Son hath the life, he that hath not the Son of
God hath not the life." 2 By life, the author does not mean
simple existence. To him it is blessed, purified immortality.
"Now are we children of God, and it is not yet made mani
fest what we shall be. We know that if He shall be manifested
we shall be like Him." 3 This life is based on union with Christ,
and this union is a real sacramental participation. One can
but feel that there is here the influence of ideas similar to those
of the mystery religions. Paul had valued the Lord's Supper.
To him it was a "communion" of the body and blood of Christ,
a "remembrance" of Christ, through which: "Ye proclaim
the Lord's death till He come."4 The Johannine literature
goes further: "Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of Man and
drink His blood ye have not life in yourselves." 5 The Lord's
Supper is already a mystical sacrament necessary for that
union with Christ which is to procure a blessed immortality.
The Johannine literature stands on a spiritual plane of ut
most loftiness. It is instructive to see how some of these prob
lems looked to a contemporary of the same general school,
an equally earnest Christian, but of far less spiritual elevation.
Such a man is Ignatius of Antioch. Condemned as a Christian
in his home city, in the last years of Trajan, 110-117, he was
sent a prisoner to Rome to be thrown to the wild beasts. Of
his history little is known, but from his pen seven brief letters
exist, six of them written to the churches of Ephesus, Magnesia,
Tralles, Rome, Philadelphia, and Smyrna ; and one a personal
note to Polycarp, bishop of Smyrna. They are full of gratitude
for kindnesses shown on his journey, of warnings against spiri-
1 John 173 ; see also 316- 36, 647, 1027. 28, etc.
2 1 John 512 ; compare John 336. 3 1 John 32.
4 1 Cor. 1016, II24- 26. 6 John 653.
IGNATIUS 41
tual perils, and of exhortations to unity. Their significance
for the history of Christian institutions will be considered in
Section IX. Ignatius has the same lofty Christology as the
Johannine literature. Christ's sacrifice is "the blood of
God."1 He greets the Romans in "Jesus Christ our God."
Yet he did nojt identify Christ wholly with the Father. "He
is truly of the race of David according to the flesh, but Son of
God by the divine will and power." As in the Johannine
literature, Ignatius held union with Christ necessary for life :
"Christ Jesus, apart from whom we have not true life" 3 — and
that life is ministered through the Lord's Supper. His concep
tion of the Supper was, however, well-nigh magical. He says
of it : " Breaking one bread which is the medicine of immor
tality and the antidote that we should not die but live forever
in Jesus Christ." 4 Ignatius's most original thought was that
the incarnation was the manifestation of God for the revela
tion of a new humanity. Before Christ the world was under
the devil and death. Christ brought life and immortality.5
In the Johannine and the Ignatian writings alike, salvation
was life, in the sense of the transformation of sinful mortality
into blessed immortality. This thought had roots in Paul's
teaching. Through the school of Syria and Asia Minor this
became, in the Greek-speaking church, the conception of sal
vation. It was one that lays necessary emphasis on the per
son of Christ and the incarnation. The Latin conception, as
will be seen, was that salvation consists in the establishment
of right relations with God and the forgiveness of sins. This,
too, had its Pauline antecedents. It n^fcarily lays prime
weight on divine grace, the death of ChrisflBKd the atonement.
These conceptions are not mutually exclusive ; but to these
differences of emphasis is ultimately due much of the contrast
in the later theological development of East and West.
SECTION VIII. GENTILE CHRISTIANITY OF THE SECOND
CENTURY
By the year 100 Christianity was strongly represented in
Asia Minor, Syria, Macedonia, Greece, and Rome, and proba
bly also in Egypt, though regarding its introduction into that
. 2Smyrn.,\. 8 Tral, 9.
Eph. 20. *Eph. 19, 20.
42 THE APOSTOLIC FATHERS
land there is no certain knowledge. It had extended very
slightly, if at all, to the more western portion of the empire.
Asia Minor was more extensively Christianized than any other
land. About 111-113 Pliny, the governor of Bithynia, could
report to Trajan that it was affecting the older temple worship.1
It was strongly missionary in spirit, and constantly extending,
i Common Christianity, however, was far from representing,
or even understanding, the lofty theology of Paul or of the
** Johannine literature. It moved in a much simpler range of
thought. Profoundly loyal to Christ, it conceived of Him
primarily as the divine revealer of the knowledge of the true
God, and the proclaimer of a "new law" of simple, lofty, and
strenuous morality. This is the attitude of the so-called
"Apostolic Fathers," with the exception of Ignatius, whose
thought has already been discussed.
These Christian writers were thus named because it was
long, though erroneously, believed that they were personal dis
ciples of the Apostles. They include Clement of Rome (c. 93-
97); Ignatius of Antioch (c. 110-117); Polycarp of Smyrna
(c. 110-117); Hermas of Rome (c. 115-140); the author who
wrote under the name of Barnabas, possibly in Alexandria
(c. 131) ; and the anonymous sermon called Second Clement
(c. 160-170). To this literature should be added the Teaching
of the Twelve Apostles (c. 130-160, but presenting a survival
of very primitive conditions). The anonymous Epistle to Di-
ognetus, often included among the writings of the Apostolic Fa
thers, is probably later than their period.
Christians looked upon themselves as a separated people,
a new race, the true Israel, whose citizenship was no longer
in the Roman Empire, though they prayed for its welfare and
that of its ruler, but in the heavenly Jerusalem.2 They are
the church "which was created before the sun and moon,"
"and for her sake the world was framed."3 The conception of
the church was not primarily that of the aggregate of Chris
tians on earth, but of a heavenly citizenship reaching down
to earth, and gathering into its own embrace the scattered
Christian communities.4 To this church the disciple is ad
mitted by baptism. It is "builded upon waters."5 That
1 Letters, 1096 ; Ayer, p. 20. 2 1 Clem., 61 ; Hermas, Sim., 1.
3 Hermas, Vis., 24; 2 Clem., 14. 4 Teaching, 9.
5 Hermas, Vis., 33.
CHRISTIAN LIFE AND WORSHIP 43
baptism implied antecedent belief in the truth of the Christian
message, engagement to live the Christian life, and repentance.1
Services were held on Sunday, and probably on other days.2
These had consisted from the Apostles' time of two kinds:
meetings for reading the Scriptures, preaching, song and
prayer;3 and A common evening meal with which the Lord's
Supper was conjoined. By the time Justin Martyr wrote his
Apology in Rome (153), the common meal had disappeared,
and the Supper was joined with the assembly for preaching,
as a concluding sacrament.4 The Supper was the occasion for
offerings for the needy.5 The beginnings of liturgical forms
are to be found before the close of the first century.6
Christian life was ascetic and legalistic. Wednesday and
Friday were fasts, which were called "stations," as of soldiers
of Christ on guard.7 The Lord's Prayer was repeated thrice
daily.8 "Fasting is better than prayer, but almsgiving than
both."9 Second marriage was discouraged.10 Simple repent
ance is not sufficient for forgiveness, there must be satisfaction.11
A Christian can even do more than God demands — works of
supererogation — and will receive a corresponding reward.12
Great generosity was exercised toward the poor, widows, and
orphans, some going so far as to sell themselves into slavery
to supply the needy.13 The rich were felt to be rewarded and
helped by the prayers of the poor.14 Wealthy congregations
redeemed prisoners and sent relief to a distance, and in these
works none was more eminent than that of Rome. On the
other hand, though slaves were regarded as Christian brethren,
their manumission was discouraged lest, lacking support, they
fall into evil ways.15 There is evidence, also, that the more
well-to-do and higher stationed found the ideal of brotherhood
difficult to maintain in practice.16
For Christians of heathen antecedents it was difficult to
deny the existence of the old gods. They were very real to
1 Justin, Apology, 61 ; Ayer, p. 33. 2 Justin, ibid., 67 ; Ayer, p. 35.
3 Justin, ibid., 67 ; see also Pliny, Letters, 1096; Ayer, pp. 21, 35.
4 65, 67 ; Ayer, pp. 33-35. 8 Justin, ibid., 67.
6 1 Clem., 59-61, see also Teaching, 9, 10; Ayer, pp. 38, 39.
7 Teaching, 8 ; Hermas, Sim., 51 ; Ayer, p. 38.
8 Teaching, 8; Ayer, p. 38. 92 Clem., 16. 10 Hermas, Hand.. 44.
11 Ibid., Sim., 7. 12 Ibid., Sim., 52- 3; Ayer, p. 48.
13 1 Clem., 55. 14 Hermas, Sim., 2.
16 Ignatius to Polycarp, 4. 16 Hermas, Sim., 920.
44 SPIRIT-FILLED LEADERS
them, but were looked upon as demons, hostile to Christianity.1
The Christians of the second century explained the resemblance
between their own rites and those of the mystery religions,
of which they were aware, as a parody by demons.2 Fear,
thus of demon influence was characteristic, and led to much
use of exorcism in the name of Christ.3 For all men there is
to be a resurrection of the flesh, and a final judgment.4
SECTION IX. CHRISTIAN ORGANIZATION
No question in church history has been more darkened by
controversy than that of the origin and development of church
officers, and none is more difficult, owing to the scantiness of
the evidence that has survived. It is probable that the de
velopment was diverse in different localities. Not all early
Christian congregations had identical institutions at the same
time. Yet a substantial similarity was reached by the middle
of the second century. Something has already been said of
the constitution of the Jewish Christian congregations.5 The
present discussion has to do with those on Gentile soil.
The earliest Gentile churches had no officers in the strict
sense. Paul's letters to the Galatians, Corinthians, and Romans
make no mention of local officers. Those to the Corinthians
could hardly have avoided some allusion, had such officers ex
isted. Their nearest approach6 is only an exhortation to be
in subjection to such as Stephanas, and does not imply that he
held office. The allusion in 1 Thess. o12 to those that "are
over you in the Lord" is, at best, very obscure. Paul's earlier
epistles show that all ministries in the church, of whatever
sort, were looked upon as the direct gift of the Spirit, who in
spires each severally for the service of the congregation.7 It
is fair to conclude that these bearers of the gifts of the Spirit
might be different at different times, and many in the church
might equally become vehicles of the charismatic inspiration.
Paul, however, specifies three classes of leaders as in particular
the gift of the Spirit — Apostles, prophets, teachers.8 He him
self regarded his Apostolate as charismatic.9 If the Apostles'
work was primarily that of founding Christian churches, those
1 Justin, Apology, 5. J Ibid., 62. 8 Ibid., Dialogue, 85.
« 2 Clem., 9, 16. * Ante, p. 23. 6 1 Cor. 1618- 1S.
7 1 Cor. 124-11- 28-30, 1426-33. 8 1 Cor. 1228.
RISE OF PERMANENT OFFICERS 45
of the prophet and teacher were the proclamation or interpre
tation of the divinely inspired message. The exact shade of
difference between prophet and teacher is impossible to dis
cover. All, however, were charismatic men. The worst of
sins was to refuse to hear the Spirit speaking through them.1
Yet Paul undoubtedly exercised a real im^sionary superinten
dence over the churches founded by him, and employed his
youngerassistants in the work.2 It is difficult to distinguish this
from ordinary supervision such as any founder might employ.
It was inevitable, however, that such unlimited confidence
as the earliest congregations possessed in charismatic gifts
should be abused. The Teaching of the Twelve Apostles shows
that self-seeking and fraudulent claimants to divine guidance
were soon preying on the churches.3 Tests had to be found
to discriminate the true from the false. In the Teaching, and
in Herman* the touchstone is character. In 1 John 41*4 it is
orthodoxy of teaching. The prophets long continued. They
are to be found in Rome as late as the time of Hermas (115-
140), to say nothing of the claims of those whom the church
judged heretical, like Montanus and his followers even later.
Such uncertain leadership could not, in the nature of things,
continue unmodified. For his farewell message Paul called to
Miletus the "elders" (Trpeo-pvrepoi,) of the church of Ephesus,
exhorting them to "take heed unto yourselves and to all the
flock in which the Holy Ghost hath made you bishops "-
eWcr/eo7rot — overseers.5 These are in a certain sense charis
matic men. They have been made bishops by the Holy Spirit.
But they are recipients of a charism which makes them a defi
nite group having particular duties to the congregation. In
one of his latest letters Paul speaks of the " bishops and deacons "
of the church in Philippi (I1). Even if this be held to mean
the discharge of functions only — "those who oversee and those
who serve" — the advance beyond the conditions of the Corin
thian epistles is apparent. The gifts may be charismatic, but
the recipients are beginning to be holders of a permanent
official relation. Why these local officers developed is un
known ; but the interests of good order and worship, and the
example of the synagogue are probable suggestions. Absence
1 Teaching, 11; Ayer, p. 40.
2 E. g., Timothy in 1 Cor. 417, 1610.
3 11 ; Ayer, p. 40. 4 Mand., 11. 6 Acts 2017-29.
46 BISHOPS AND PRESBYTERS
of prophets and teachers by whom worship could be con
ducted and the congregation led was certainly a cause in some
places. The Teaching of the Twelve Apostles directs: "Ap
point for yourselves, therefore, bishops and deacons worthy
of the Lord, men who are meek and not lovers of money, and
true and approved ; for unto you they also perform the service
of the prophets and teachers. Therefore despise them not;
for they are your honorable men along with the prophets and
teachers" (15). At Philippi, Ephesus, and in the Teaching,
these "bishops" are spoken of in the plural. This is also true
of Rome and of Corinth when Clement of Rome wrote in
93-97. l Clement speaks, also, of those against whom the
church in Corinth had rebelled as its "appointed presby
ters" (54); and of "those who have offered the gifts of the
bishop's office" as presbyters (44). Poly carp of Smyrna,
writing to Philippi in 110-117, mentions only presbyters and
deacons and their duties. Hernias, 115-140, would seem to
imply that as late as his time there was this collegiate office at
Rome. It is "the elders (presbyters) that preside over the
church." 2 He speaks only of the duties of "deacons" and
"bishops."3
Ancient interpretation, such as that of Jerome, saw in these
collegiate bishops and presbyters the same persons, the names
being used interchangeably. That is the opinion of most
modern scholars, and seems the probable conclusion. The
view of the late Edwin Hatch, as developed by Harnack,
holds, however, that presbyters were the older brethren in the
congregation, from whom the collegiate bishops were taken.
A bishop would be a presbyter, but a presbyter not necessarily
a bishop. The subject is one of difficulty, the more so as the
word "presbyter," like the English "elder" is used in early
Christian literature both as a general designation of the aged,
and as a technical expression. Its particular meaning is hard
always to distinguish. It is evident, however, that till some
time after the year 100, Rome, Greece, and Macedonia had at
the head of each congregation a group of collegiate bishops,
or presbyter-bishops, with a number of deacons as their help
ers. These were chosen by the church,4 or at least "with the
consent of the whole church." 5
1 1 Clem., 42, 44. 2 Vis., 24. 3 Sim., 926. 27.
4 Teaching, 15; Ayer, p. 41. 5 1 Clem., 44; Ayer, p. 37.
THE THREEFOLD MINISTRY 47
Contemporary with the later portion of the literature just
described, there is another body of writings which indicates
the existence of a threefold ministry consisting of a single,
monarchical bishop, presbyters, and deacons in each congre
gation of the region to which it applies. This would appear
to be the intimations of 1 Timothy and Titus, though the treat
ment is obscure. Whatever Pauline elements these much dis
puted letters contain, their sections on church government
betray a development very considerably beyond that of the
other Pauline literature, and can scarcely be conceived as
belonging to Paul's time. It is interesting to observe that the
regions to which the letters are directed are Asia Minor and
the adjacent island of Crete, the former being one of the terri
tories in which the monarchical bishopric is earliest evident
in other sources.
What is relatively obscure in these epistles is abundantly
clear in those of Ignatius, 110-117. Himself the monarchical
bishop of Antioch,1 he exalts in every way the authority of
the local monarchical bishop in the churches of Ephesus,
Magnesia, Tralles, Philadelphia, and Smyrna. In four of
these churches he mentions the bishop by name. Only when
writing to the Romans he speaks of no bishop, probably for the
sufficient reason that there was as yet no monarchical bishop
at Rome. The great value to Ignatius of the monarchical
bishop is as a rallying-point of unity, and as the best opponent
of heresy. "Shun divisions as the beginning of evils. Do ye
all follow your bishop, as Jesus Christ followed the Father,
and the presbytery as the Apostles, and to the deacons pay
respect." The monarchical bishopric is not yet diocesan, it
is the headship of the local church, or at most of the congrega
tions of a single city ; but Ignatius does not treat it as a new
institution. He accepts it as established, though it evidently
did not always command the obedience which he desired.3
It is evident, however, that the monarchical bishopric must
have come into being between the time when Paul summoned
the presbyter-bishops to Miletus4 and that at which Ignatius
wrote.
1 Romans 2. 2 Smyrn., 8.
3 See Phila., 7, where Ignatius declares it is by charismatic inspiration,
and not by knowledge of divisions, that he exhorted: "Do nothing with
out the bishop."
4 Acts 2017-25.
48 APOSTOLICAL SUCCESSION
How the monarchical bishopric arose is a matter of conjec
ture. Reasons that have been advanced by modern scholars
are leadership in worship and the financial oversight of the
congregation in the care of the poor and other obligations of
charity. These are probable, the first-named perhaps the more
probable. It is sufficient to observe, however, that leadership
of a congregation by a committee of equals is unworkable for
any protracted time. Some one is sure to be given headship.
One further observation of great importance is to be made.
Clement of Rome (93-97), writing when Rome had as yet no
monarchical bishop, traces the existence of church officers to
apostolical succession.1 It is no impeachment of the firmness
of his conviction, though it militates against the historic ac
curacy of his view, that he apparently bases it on a misunder
standing of Paul's statement in 1 Cor. 1615> 16. On the other
hand, Ignatius, though urging in the strongest terms the value
of the monarchical episcopate as the bond of unity, knows
nothing of an apostolical succession. It was the union of these
two principles, a monarchical bishop in apostolical succession,
which occurred before the middle of the second century, that
immensely enhanced the dignity and power of the bishopric^
By the sixth decade of the second century monarchical bishops
had become well-nigh universal. The institution was to gain
further strength in the Gnostic and Montanist struggles; but
it may be doubted whether anything less rigid could have car
ried the church through the crises of the second century.
SECTION X. RELATIONS OF CHRISTIANITY TO THE
ROMAN GOVERNMENT
Christianity was at first regarded by the Roman authorities
as a branch of Judaism, which stood under legal protection.2
The hostility of the Jews themselves must have made a dis
tinction soon evident, and by the time of the Neronian persecu
tion in Rome (64) it was plainly drawn. The Roman victims
were not then charged, however, primarily with Christianity,
but with arson — though their unpopularity with the multitude
made them ready objects of suspicion. By the time that
1 Peter was written (c. 90), the mere fact of a Christian profes
sion had become a cause for punishment (416). How much
1 1 Cor. 42, 44; Ayer, pp. 36, 37. 2 Acts 1814-18.
PERSECUTIONS 49
earlier "the name" had become a sufficient criminal charge it
is impossible to say. Trajan's reply to Pliny, the governor of
Bithynia (111-113), presupposes that Christianity was already
viewed as criminal. That already recognized, the Emperor
orders what must be deemed mild procedure from his point of y
view. Christians are not to be hunted out, and, if willing to
abjure by sacrifice, are to be acquitted. Only in case of per
sistence are they to be punished.1 From the standpoint of a
faithful Christian profession this was a test which could only be
met by martyrdom. Trajan's immediate successors, Hadrian
(117-138), and Antoninus Pius (138-161) pursued the same
general policy, though discouraging mob accusations. Marcus
Aurelius (161-180) gave renewed force to the law against strange
religions (176), and initiated a sharper period of persecution
which extended into the beginning of the reign of Commodus
(180-192). Commodus, however, treated Christianity, on the
whole, with the toleration of indifference. Always illegal, and
with extreme penalties hanging over it, the Christian profession
involved constant peril for its adherents; yet the number of
actual martyrs in this period appears to have been relatively
.small compared with those of the third and fourth centuries.
V No general persecution occurred before 250.
The charges brought against the Christians were atheism
and anarchy.2 Their rejection of the old gods seemed atheism ;
their refusal to join in emperor-wrorship appeared treasonable.3
Popular credulity, made possible by the degree to which the
Christians held aloof from ordinary civil society, charged them
with crimes as revolting as they were preposterous. A mis
understanding of the Christian doctrine of Christ's presence
in the Supper must be deemed the occasion of the common
accusation of cannibalism; and its celebration secretly in the
evening of that of gross licentiousness.4 Much of the govern
mental persecution of Christianity in this period had its incite
ment in mob attacks upon Christians. That was the case at
Smyrna when Polycarp suffered martyrdom in 156 ; wThile a
boycott, on the basis of charges of immoral actions, was the
immediate occasion of the fierce persecution in Lyons and
Vienne in 177. 5 It is not surprising, therefore, that the major-
Pliny's Letters 1097; Ayer, p. 22. 2 Justin, Apology, 5, 6; 11, 12.
3 Martyrdom of Polycarp, 3, 8-10. 4 Justin, Dialogue, 10.
6 Eusebius, Church History, 51.
50 THE APOLOGISTS
ity of judicial proceedings against Christians in this period
seem rather to have been under the general police power of
magistrates to repress disturbance than by formal trial on the
specific criminal charge of Christianity. Both procedures are
to be found. To all these accusations the best answer of the
Christians was their heroic constancy in loyalty to Christ, and
their superior morality as judged by the standards of society
about them.
SECTION XI. THE APOLOGISTS
These charges against Christians, and the hostile attitude of
the Roman government, aroused a number of literary defenders,
who are known as the Apologists. Their appearance shows
that Christianity was making some conquest of the more in
tellectual elements of society. Their appeal is distinctly to
intelligence. Of these Apologists the first was Quadratus,
probably of Athens, who about 125 presented a defense of Chris
tianity, now preserved only in fragments, to the Emperor
Hadrian. Aristides, an Athenian Christian philosopher, made
a similar appeal, about 140, to Antoninus Pius. Justin wrote
the most famous of these defenses, probably in Home, about
153. His disciple, Tatian, who combined the four Gospels
into his famous Diatessaron, also belonged to the Apologists.
With them are to be reckoned Melito, bishop of Sardis, who
wrote between 169 and 180 ; and Athenagoras, of whom little
is known personally, whose defense, which survives, was made
about the year 177. Here also belongs the Epistle to Diognetus,
often reckoned among the writings of the Apostolic Fathers.
There is no evidence that any of these Apologists greatly
influenced heathen opinion, or that their appeal was seriously
considered by the rulers whom it was their desire to persuade.
Their work was deservedly valued in Christian circles, however,
and undoubtedly strengthened Christian conviction of the
nobility of the cause so earnestly defended. Several of the
Apologists were from the ranks of the philosophers, and their
philosophical interpretation aided in the development of the
ology. The most significant was Justin, and he may well stand
as typical of the whole movement.
Justin, called the Martyr, from his heroic witness unto death
in Rome under the prefect Rusticus, about 165, was born in
Shechem, in the ancient Samaria, of heathen ancestry. He
v
JUSTIN MARTYR 51
lived, for a time at least, in Ephesus, and it was in its vicinity
probably that the conversion of which he gives a vivid account
took place.1 An eager student of philosophy, he accepted suc
cessively Stoicism, Aristotelianism, Pythagoreanism, and Pla-
tonism. While a Platonist his attention was directed to the
Hebrew prophets, "men more ancient than all those who are
esteemed philosophers." Theirs is the oldest and truest ex
planation "of the beginning and end of things and of those
matters which the philosopher ought to know," since they were
"filled with the holy Spirit." "They glorified the Creator,
the God and Father of all things, and proclaimed His Son, the
Christ." By his newly acquired conviction of the truth of
their ancient prophetic message, Justin says : " straightway a
flame was kindled in my soul ; and a love of the prophets and
of those men who are friends of Christ. ... I found this
philosophy alone to be safe and profitable." These quotations
show the character of Justin's religious experience. It was not
a profound and mystical union with a risen Lord, as with
Paul. It was not a sense of forgiveness of sin. It was a con
viction that in Christianity is the oldest, truest, and most
divine of philosophies. Justin continued to look upon himself
as a philosopher. He made his home in Rome and there
wrote, about 153, his Apology, addressed to the Emperor
Antoninus Pius and that sovereign's adopted sons, defend
ing Christianity from governmental antagonism and heathen
criticisms. A little later, perhaps on a visit to Ephesus, he
composed his Dialogue with Trypho, similarly presenting the
Christian case against Jewish objections. A second sojourn
in Rome brought him to a martyr's death.
Justin's Apology (often called two Apologies, though the
" second " is only an appendix) is a manly, dignified, and effec
tive defense. Christians, if condemned at all, should be pun
ished for definite proved crimes, not for the mere name without
investigation of their real character. They are atheists only
in that they count the popular gods demons unworthy of
worship, not in respect to the true God. They are anarchists
only to those who do not understand the nature of the kingdom
that they seek. Justin then argues the truth of Christianity,
especially from the fulfilment of Old Testament prophecy, and
briefly explains Christian sacraments and worship.
1 Dialogue, 2-8.
52 JUSTIN MARTYR
As a theologian, Justin's convictions were the result of his
own experience. His central belief was that Christianity was
the truest of philosophies, because taught by the prophets of
the Old Testament, and by the divine Logos "our Teacher
. . . who is both Son and Apostle of God the Father." * This
divine Logos he conceives, in true Stoic fashion, as everywhere
and always at work, teaching the Greeks, of whom he cites
Socrates and Heraclitus, and the "barbarians," such as Abra
ham, so that these, and all who at any time obeyed the same
guidance were really Christians.2 His great advance on Stoi
cism is his conviction that this all-illuminating divine Logos
became definitely incarnate in Christ, so that in Him is the
full revelation of that which elsewhere is less distinctly seen.
The content of the Christian message Justin conceives in terms
very similar to those of the best contemporary heathen phi
losophy — knowledge of God, morality, the hope of immortality,
and future rewards and punishments. Like common non-
Pauline Christianity, he views the Gospel as a new law, teaching
a somewhat ascetic moral life. Justin's emphasis is on the
divine Logos, subordinate to God the Father, yet His Son,
His agent, and one with Him in some true, though rather in
definite, sense. This emphasis is really at the expense of the
historic Jesus, for though both are identified, the earthly life
of Jesus has little interest for Justin save as the great historic
instance of the incarnation of the Logos, and therefore the
occasion on which the divine philosophy was most fully re
vealed. He does, indeed, speak of Christ's "cleansing by His
blood those who believe on Him" ;3 but such thoughts are not
primary. Hence the theology of Justin, faithful martyr though
he was, was essentially rationalizing, with little of the pro
foundly religious content so conspicuous in Paul, the Johannine
^literature, or even in Ignatius. It marks, however, a conscious
\union of Christian thought with the Gentile philosophy, and
I therefore the beginnings of a "scientific" theology.
1 Apology, 12. 2 75^ 46 ; Ayer, p. 72. 3 Ibid., 32.
PERIOD, II. FROM THE GNOSTIC CRISIS
TO CONSTANTINE
SECTION I. GNOSTICISM
THE later New Testament literature, and at least one of the
Apostolic Fathers, strongly combat conceptions of Christ
which it is evident must have been widely prevalent, especially
in Asia Minor, in the opening years of the second century.
These views denied His real humanity and His actual death.
He had not come "in the flesh," but in ghost-like, Docetic
appearance.1 These opinions have generally been regarded as
the beginnings of Gnosticism. It is true that this Docetic
conception of Christ was a feature of much Gnostic teaching.
It is more probable, however, that these early teachings were
more largely based on an attempt to explain a seeming contra
diction between the Jesus of history and the Christ of experi
ence, than on purely Gnostic speculations. That earthly life
of humiliation was so contrasted with His pre-existent and post-
existent glory, that the simplest solution of the Christologicai
problem may well have seemed to some the denial of the reality
of His earthly life altogether. Christ did, indeed, appear.
He taught His disciples ; but all the time as a heavenly being,
not one of flesh and blood.
Gnosticism, properly speaking, was something much more
far-reaching. The height of its influence was from about 135
to 160, though it continued a force long after the latter date.
It threatened to overwhelm the historic Christian faith, and by
so doing brought upon the Christian Church its gravest crisis
since the Pauline battle for freedom from law. Its spread and
consequent peril were made possible by the relatively weakly
organized, and doctrinally .undefined state of the church at its
beginning. The church overcame the danger ; but at the cost
of the development of a rigidity of organization, creed, and
government which rendered the condition of the church at
1 1 John I1-3, 222, 42- 3; Ignatius, Trallians, 9-11; Smyrn., 1-6.
53
54 GNOSTICISM
the close of the second century a striking contrast to that of
its beginning.1
Gnosticism professed to be based on "knowledge" (yvwans) ,
but not as that word is now commonly understood. Its knowl
edge was always a mystical, supernatural wisdom, by which the
initiates were brought to a true understanding of the universe,
and were saved from this evil world of matter. It had a fun
damental doctrine of salvation. In these respects it was akin
to the mystery religions. Its most prominent characteristic,
however, was its syncretism. It took unto itself many elements
from many sources, and assumed many forms. It is, therefore,
impossible to speak of a single type of Gnosticism. It was
prevailingly mystical, magical, or philosophical according to
the dominant admixture in its syncretism. Gnosticism was
pre-Christian in its origin, and was in existence before Chris
tianity came into the world. There were Jewish and heathen
types. It is represented in the Hermetic literature of Egypt.
It had astral elements which may be traced back to Babylonian
religious conceptions, a dualistic view of the universe, Per
sian in origin, and a doctrine of emanations from God in the
"pleroma" or realm of spirit, which was probably Egyptian.
Perhaps its most fundamental conception, the wholly evil
character of the phenomenal world, was due to a combination
of the Platonic theory of the contrast between the real spiritual
sphere of " ideas," and this visible world of phenomena, inter
preted in terms of Persian dualism — the one good and that to
which man strives to return, the other wholly bad and the
place of his imprisonment. The world of matter is evil. Its
creator and ruler is not, therefore, the high, good God, but an
inferior and imperfect being, the demiurge. Man, to be saved,
must be freed from this bondage to the visible world, and its
rulers, the planetary spirits ; and the means of his freedom is
"knowledge" (7i>a>oY?), a mystical, spiritual enlightenment for
the initiated which brings him into communion with the true
realm of spiritual realities.
Strongly syncretistic already, Gnosticism found much in
Christianity which it could use. In particular, the figure of
Christ was especially adapted to give a definite and concrete cen
tre to its theory of a higher saving knowledge. He was the re-
1 Useful selections regarding Gnosticism may be found in Ayer, pp.
76-102.
GNOSTICISM 55
vealer of the hitherto unknown high and all-perfect God to men.
By that illumination all "spiritual" men, who were capable of
receiving it, would be led back to the realm of the good God.
Since the material world is evil, Christ could not have had
a real incarnation, and the Gnostics explained His appearance
either as Docetic and ghostly or as a temporary indwelling of
the man Je"5us or as an apparent birth from a virgin mother
without partaking of material nature. The God of the Old
Testament, as the creator of this visible world, cannot be the
high God whom Christ revealed, but the inferior demiurge.
That all Christians did not possess the saving "knowledge," the
Gnostics explained by holding it to be a secret teaching im
parted by the Apostles to their more intimate disciples, a speak
ing "wisdom among the perfect." 1 It is true that while Paul
was in no sense .a Gnostic, there were many things in Paul's
teachings of which Gnostics availed themselves. His sharp
contrast between flesh and spirit ; 2 his conception of Christ as
victor over those "principalities and powers" which are the
"world rulers of this darkness,"3 and his thought of Christ as
the Man from Heaven,4 were all ideas which the Gnostics could
employ. Paul was always to them the chief Apostle.
Gnosticism was divided into many sects and presented a
great variety of forms. In all of them the high, good God is
the head of the spiritual world of light, often called the "ple-
roma." From that world fragments have become imprisoned
in this visible world of darkness and evil. In later Gnosticism
this fallen element from the pleroma is represented as the lowest
of a series of aeons, or spiritual beings, emanating from the high
God. To rescue this fallen portion, the seeds of light in the
visible evil world, Christ came, bringing the true "knowledge."
By His teaching those capable of receiving it are restored to
the pleroma. They are at best few. Most Gnostics divided
mankind into "spiritual," capable of salvation, and "material"
who could not receive the message. Later Gnosticism, es
pecially the school of Valentinus, taught a threefold division,
"spiritual," who alone could attain "knowledge" ; "psychical,"
capable of faith, and of a certain degree of salvation ; and " ma
terial," who were hopeless*
Christian tradition represented the founder of Christian
1 1 Cor. 26. 2 Romans 822-25 ; 1 Cor. 1560.
8 Col. 216; Eph. 612. 4 1 Cor. 1547.
56 MARCION
Gnosticism to be Simon Magus,1 but of his real relations to it
little is known. More clearly defined leaders are Satornilus
of Antioch, who labored before 150; Basilides, who taught in
Alexandria about 130 ; and, above all, Valentinus, who was
active in Rome from about 135 to 165, and who must be re
garded as one of the most gifted thinkers of the age.
Gnosticism was an immense peril for the church. It cut
out the historic foundations of Christianity. Its God is not
the God of the Old Testament, which is the work of an in
ferior or even evil being. Its Christ had no real incarnation,
death, or resurrection. Its salvation is for the few capable of
spiritual enlightenment. The peril was the greater because
Gnosticism was represented by some of the keenest minds in
the church of the second century. The age was syncretistic,
and in some respects Gnosticism was but the fullest accomplish
ment of that amalgamation of Hellenic and Oriental philosophi
cal speculation with primitive Christian beliefs which was in
greater or less degree in process in all Christian thinking.
SECTION II. MARCION
A special interest attaches to Marcion as one who was the
first church reformer.2 Born in Sinope, in Asia Minor, where
he was a wealthy ship-owner, he came to Rome about 139, and
joined the Roman congregation, making it a gift for its benevo
lent work equivalent to ten thousand dollars. He soon came
to feel that Christianity was under the bondage of legalism,
and, under the light of the Gnostic teaching of Cerdo, he saw
the root of this evil in acceptance of the Old Testament and
its God. Never more than partially a Gnostic, his prime in
terest was in church reform. Salvation, with him, was by right
faith rather than by knowledge. To Marcion, Paul was the
only Apostle who had understood the Gospel ; all the rest had
fallen into the errors of Judaism. The God of the Old Testa
ment is a just God, in the sense of "an eye for an eye, and a
tooth for a tooth." He created the world and gave the Jew
ish law. Christ, who was a Docetic manifestation, revealed
the heretofore unknown good God of mercy. The God of the
Old Testament opposed Him; but in Christ the authority of
the Jewish law was done away, and the "just God" became un-
1 Acts 89-24; Irenseus, Heresies, I23; Ayer, p. 79.
2 See selections, Ayer, pp. 102-105.
MARCION AND MONTANISM 57
just because of this unwarranted hostility to the revealer of the
"good God." The Old Testament and its God are therefore to
be rejected by Christians. Christ proclaimed a Gospel of love
and of righteousness by faith, though, curiously enough, Marcion
was extremely ascetic in his conception of the Christian life. *
Marcion's endeavor to call the Roman Church back to what
he deemed the Gospel of Christ and of Paul resulted in his
own excommunication about 144. He now gathered followers
into a separated church. For their use he compiled a canon
of sacred books, composed of the epistles of Paul (omitting the
•Pastorals), and the Gospel of Luke, shorn of all passages which
implied that Christ regarded the God of the Old Testament
as His Father, or was in any way related to Him. As far as
is known, this was the first attempt to form an authoritative
collection of New Testament writings.
Marcion's movement was probably the most dangerous of
those associated with Gnosticism. He sundered Christianity
from its historic background as completely as had the more
speculative Gnostic theories. He denied a real incarnation,
and condemned the Old Testament and its Crocf Atl this was
the more plausible because done in the name of a protest
against growing legalism. For such a protest there was much
justification. His churches spread extensively, in the Orient
especially, and survived into the fifth century. His own later
history is wholly unknown.
\s^
SECTION III. MONTANISM
Unlike Gnosticism, Montanism was a movement distinctly of
Christian origin. In mostfof the churches of the second cen
tury the early hope of the speedy return of Christ was growing
dim. The consciousness of the constant inspiration of the
Spirit, characteristic of the Apostolic Churches, had also largely
faded. With this declining sense of the immediacy of the Spirit's
present work came an increasing emphasis on His significance
as the agent of revelation. Paul had identified the Spirit and
Christ.1 That was not the general feeling half a century later.
The Spirit had been the inspiration of prophecy in the Old
Testament.2 He guided the New Testament writers.3 To
1 2 Cor. 317.
2 E. g., 1 Clem. 8, 13, 16; "the prophetic Spirit," Justin, Apology, 13.
3 1 Clem., 47.
58 MONTANISM
Christian thought at the beginning of the second century the
Holy Spirit was differentiated from Christ, but was classed,
like Him, with God. This appears in the Trinitarian baptismal
formula,1 which was displacing the older baptism in the name
of Christ.2 Trinitarian formula were frequently in use by
the close of the first and beginning of the second century.3
The Johannine Gospel represented Christ as promising the
coming of the Holy Spirit to the disciples: "When the Com
forter is come, whom I will send unto you from the Father,
even the Spirit of Truth, which proceedeth from the Father,
He shall bear Witness of Me," (1526). The second century
was convinced, therefore, not only that the Holy Spirit was in
peculiar association with God the Father and Christ ; but that
Christ had promised the Spirit's coming in more abundant
measure in the future.
It was this thought of the special dispensation of the Holy
Spirit, combined with a fresh outburst of the early prophetic
enthusiasm, and a belief that the end of the world-age was
close at hand, that were represented in Montanism. To a
considerable extent Montanism was, also, a reaction from the
secular tendencies already at work in the church. Montanus,
from whom the movement was named, was of Ardabau, near
the region of Asia Minor known as Phrygia — long noted for
its ecstatic type of religion.4 A tradition, recorded by Jerome,
affirmed that, before conversion, he had been a priest of Cy-
bele. About 156 Montanus proclaimed himself the passive
instrument through whom the Holy Spirit spoke. In this new
revelation Montanus declared the promise of Christ fulfilled,
and the dispensation of the Holy Spirit begun. To him were
soon joined two prophetesses, Prisca and Maximilla. They
now affirmed, as mouthpieces of the Spirit, that the end of the
world was at hand, and that the heavenly Jerusalem was about
to be established in Phrygia, whither believers should betake
themselves. In preparation for the fast-approaching consum
mation the most strenuous asceticism should be practised,
celibacy, fastings, and abstinence from meat. This vigorous
attitude won response as a protest against the growing worldli-
ness of the church at large, and to many was the most attractive
feature of Montanism.
1 Matt. 2819. 2 Acts 238. 3 E. g., 1 Clem. 46, 58 ; Ignatius, Eph., 9.
4 See selections, Ayer, pp. 106-109.
MONTANISM 59
The movement speedily attained considerable proportions.
By the bishops of Asia Minor, who felt their authority threat
ened, one or more synods were held soon after 160, which have
the distinction of being the earliest synods of church history, and
in which Montanism was condemned. Its progress was not
easily checkefl, even by the death of the last of its original
prophets, Maximilla, in 179. Soon after 17Q it was represented
in Rome, and for years the Roman church was more or less
turmoiled by it. In Carthage it won Tertullian, about 207,
attracted chiefly by its ascetic demands, who thenceforth was
the most eminent Montanist. Though gradually driven out
of the dominant church, Montanism continued to be represented
in the Orient till long after the acceptance of Christianity by
the imperial government. In Carthage the followers of Ter
tullian persisted till the time of Augustine. In its ascetic de
mands Montanism represented a wide-spread tendency, and an
asceticism as strict as anything Montanism taught was later to
find a place in the great church in monasticism.
SECTION IV. THE CATHOLIC CHURCH
Neither Gnosticism nor Montanism, though extremely peril
ous, were ever embraced by a majority of Christians. The
large church remained faithful to historic Christianity. By
the latter third of the second century it was calling itself the
" CatHoTic^ChurcEI The word "Catholic" is first used of
the church by Ignatius,1 who employed it in the wholly un-
technical sense of "universal." It is next to be found in the
letter of the Church of Smyrna, describing the martyrdom of
Polycarp (156), where it is difficult to decide whether the use
is technical or not. Its employment as a technically descrip
tive adjective gradually became common, so that the strongly
consolidated church that came out of the Gnostic and Mon
tanist crises is now usually described as the "Old Catholic."
This Old Catholic Church developed its distinguishing char
acteristics between 160 and 190. The hitherto relatively in
dependent congregations were now knit into an effective union.
The power of the bishops was greatly strengthened, a collection
of authoritative New Testament Scripture recognized, and a
creed formulated. Comparatively loosely organized Christianity
1 Smyrn., 8 ; Ayer, p. 42.
60 THE CATHOLIC CHURCH
now became a rigid corporate body, having recognized official
leaders and capable not merely of defining its faith, but of
shutting out from its communion all who did not accept its
creed or its officers. As a recent German writer has epitomized
the change : " About 50, he was of the church who had received
baptism and the Holy Spirit and called Jesus, Lord ; about 180,
he who acknowledged the rule of faith (creed), the New Testa
ment canon, and the authority of the bishops."1
In a measure, the beginnings of this great change may be
seen before the Gnostic and Montanist crises ; but it was those
struggles that brought it effectively into being. The character
istic answer of the Catholic Church to the Gnostics may be seen
in the argument of Irenseus of Lyons.2 Against Gnostic claims
Irenseus, writing about 185, held that the Apostles did not
preach before they had "perfect knowledge" of the Gospel.
That preaching they recorded in the Gospels — Matthew and
John, were written by Apostles themselves; while Mark re
produced the message of Peter and Luke that of Paul. Nothing
Gnostic, Irenseus declares, is found in any of them. But the
Gnostic may object that, besides this public apostolic teaching
in the Gospels, there was a viva wee instruction, a speaking
"wisdom among the perfect," 3 of which Gnosticism was the
heir. This Irenseus denied. He argued that, had there been
such private teaching, the Apostles would have intrusted it
to those, above all others, whom they selected as their suc
cessors in the government of the churches. In these churches
of apostolic foundation the apostolic teaching had been fully
preserved, and its transmission had been guaranteed by the
orderly succession of their bishops. Go therefore to Rome,
or to Smyrna, or Ephesus, and learn what is there taught, and
nothing Gnostic will be found. Every church must agree
with that of Rome, for there apostolical tradition has been
faithfully preserved as in other Apostolic Churches.
It is difficult to see what more effective argument Irenseus
could have advanced in the peculiar situation which con
fronted him ; but it was an answer which greatly increased the
significance of the churches of real or reputed apostolical
foundation, and of their heads, the bishops. Irenseus went
further. The church itself is the depository of Christian teach-
1 Heussi, Kompendium der Kirchengeschichte, p. 44.
2 Heresies, 3:1-4; Ayer, pp. 112-114. 3 1 Cor. 2«.
APOSTOLICAL TRADITION AND CREED 61
ing: "Since the Apostles, like a rich man in a bank, lodged in
her hands most copiously all things pertaining to the truth."
This deposit is especially intrusted to " those who, together with
the succession of the episcopate, have received the certain gift
of truth,"2 i.e. to the heads of the churches. To agree with
the bishops is therefore a necessity. This argument was not
peculiar to Irenaeus, it was that of the leaders of Old Catholic
teaching generally.
While the power of the episcopate and the significance of
churches of apostolical foundation was thus greatly enhanced,
/the Gnostic crisis saw a corresponding development of creed,
^ at least in the West. Some form of instruction before baptism
was common by the middle of the second century.3 At Rome
this developed, apparently, between 150 and 175, and probably
in opposition to Marcionite Gnosticism, into an explication of
the baptismal formula of Matt. 2819 — the earliest known form
of the so-called Apostles' Creed. What antecedents in Asia
Minor, if any, it may have had is still a question in scholarly
dispute. Without symbolic authority in the Orient, all the
Western churches received this creed from Rome, and it was
regarded, by the time of Tertullian at least, as having apostolic
authority, that is as a summary of apostolic teaching.4 In its
original form it read :
" I believe in God the Father Almighty ; and in Christ Jesus,
His only begotten Son, our Lord, who was born of the Holy
Spirit and the Virgin Mary, crucified under Pontius Pilate and
buried ; the third day He rose from the dead, ascended into the
heavens, being seated at the right hand of the Father, whence
He shall come to judge the living and the dead ; and in the Holy
Spirit, holy church, forgiveness of sins, resurrection of the
flesh."
sj The development of a canon of New Testament books was,
also, the work of this period. By the church from the begin
ning the Old Testament was reckoned as Scripture. The Gos
pels and the letters of Pdujrwere doubtless highly valued, but
they did not, at first, ha^e "Scriptural authority. Clement of
Rome (93-97), though constantly quoting the Old Testament
as the utterance of God, was very free in his use of the words
of the New Testament, and nowhere styled them divine.
1 Heresies, 3 : 41. 2 7^., 4 . 26*.
8 Justin, Apology, 61. 4 Prescription, 13, 36.
62 THE NEW TESTAMENT CANON
The earliest designation of a passage from the Gospels as
"Scripture" was about 131, by the so-called Barnabas,1 and of
a quotation from Paul about 110-117, by Polycarp.2 By the
time of Justin (153), the Gospels were read in the services in
Rome, together with the Old Testament prophets.3 The proc
ess by which the New Testament writings came to Scriptural
authority seems to have been one of analogy. The Old Testa
ment was everywhere regarded as divinely authoritative.
Christians could think no less of their own fundamental books.
The question was an open one, however, as to which were the
canonical writings. Works like Hernias and Barnabas were
read in churches. An authoritative list was desirable. Mar-
cion had prepared such a canon for his followers. A similar
enumeration was gradually formed, probably in Rome, by the
Catholic party. Apparently the Gospels were the first to gain
complete recognition, then the letters of Paul. By about 200,
according to the witness of the Muratorian fragment, Western
Christendom had a New Testament canon embracing Matthew,
Mark, Luke, John, Acts, 1 and 2 Corinthians, Ephesians, Phil-
ippians, Colossians, Galatians, 1 and 2 Thessalonians, Romans,
Philemon, Titus, 1 and 2 Timothy, Jude, 1 and 2 John, Revela
tion, and the so-called Apocalypse of Peter.4 In the Orient the
development of a canon was not quite so rapid. Certain books,
like Hebrews and Revelation were disputed. The whole process
of canonical development into its precise present form was not
completed in the West till 400, and in the East till even later.
By the year 200 the church of the western portion of the
empire had, therefore, an authoritative collection of New
Testament books, in the main like our own, to which to appeal.
The East was not much behind. The formation of the canon
was essentially a process of selection from the whole mass of
Christian literature, made originally by no council, but by the
force of Christian opinion — the criterion being that the books
accepted were believed to be eitta^ie^work of an Apostle
or of the immediate disciple of^fl HStlej and thus to rep
resent apostolic teaching.
Thus out of the struggle with Gnosticism and Montanism
came the Old Catholic Church, with itsferong episcopal organ-
V ization^redal standard, and Authoritative canon. It differed
1 Barn., 4. 2 Phil. 12.
8 Apology, 66, 67. 4Ayer, pp. 117-120.
THE GROWTH OF ROME 63
much from the Apostolic Church; but it had preserved historic
Christianity and carried it through a tremendous crisis. It
may be doubted whether a less rigid organization than that
developed in this momentous second half of the second cen
tury could have achieved as much.
SECTION V. THE GROWING IMPORTANCE OF ROME
The Roman Church had been of prominence since the time
of Paul. To it that Apostle wrote his most noteworthy letter.
At Rome Paul, and probably Peter, died. The church endured
the severest of early persecutions under Nero, and survived in
vigor. Situated in the capital of the empire, it early devel
oped a consciousness of strength and authority, which was
doubtless increased by the fact that, by 100, it was, it would
appear, the largest single congregation in Christendom. Even
before the close of the first century Clement, writing anony
mously to the Corinthians in the name of the whole Roman
congregation (93-97), spoke as for those who expected to be
obeyed.1 The tone, if brotherly, was big-brotherly. This
influence was increased by the well-known generosity of the
Roman congregation.2 Ignatius addressed it as "having the
presidency of love."3 The destruction of Jerusalem in the
second Jewish war (135) ended any possible leadership of Chris
tianity that might there have been asserted. The successful
resistance to Gnosticism and Montanism strengthened it; and
it reaped in abundance the fruits of that struggle. There the
creed was formulated, there the canon formed. Above all, it
was advantaged by the appeal of the opponents of Gnosticism
to the tradition of the Apostolic churches, for Rome was the
only church in the western half of the empire with which
Apostles had had anything to do. Irenseus of Lyons, writing
about 185, represented the general Western feeling of his time,
when he not only pictures the Roman Church as founded by
Peter and Paul, but de^|^| " it is a matter of necessity that
every church should afl|^rith this church." 4 It wa,s Wd-
ership in_jhe jireservatftrTof^ the apostolic faith r not jndirial
supremacy, that Irenseus had in mind ; but with such estimates
1 1 Clem., 59, 63.
2 Eusebius, Church History, 4 : 2310 ; Ayer, p. 24.
9 Romans, * Heresies, 3 : 32 ; Ayer, p. 113.
64 THE EASTER CONTROVERSY
wide-spread, the door was open for a larger assertion of Roman
authority. Rather late in developing the monarchical episco
pate, since Anicetus (154-165) seems to have been the first
single head of the Roman Church, the prominence of its bishop
grew rapidly in the Gnostic struggle, and with this growth
\J came the first extensive assertion of the authority of the Roman
bishop in the affairs of the church at large.
While Rome was thus gaining in strength Asia Minor was
relatively declining. At the beginning of the second century
Asia Minor and the adjacent portion of Syria had been the
most extensively Christianized sections of the empire. That
was probably, also, true at the century's close. Ephesus and
Antioch had been, and were still, great Christian centres.
Asia Minor had resisted Gnosticism, but it had been torn by
Montanism and other sources of controversy, though the Mon-
tanists had been rejected. There is reason to think, however,
that these disputes had borne hard on the united strength of
its Christianity. The quarrel between Asia Minor and Rome
arose over the time of the observance of Easter. While there
is reason to suppose that Easter had been honored from early
in Christian history, the first definite record of its celebration
is in connection with a visit of Polycarp, bishop of Smyrna,
to Anicetus, bishop of Rome, in 154 or 155. At that time the
practice of Asia Minor, probably the more ancient, was to ob
serve Easter with the Lord's Supper on the evening of the
fourteenth of the month Nisan, like the Jewish Passover, re
gardless of the day of the week on which it might fall. The
Roman custom, and that of some parts of the East, was to hold
the Easter feast always on Sunday. The question was, there
fore, should the day of the week or that of the month be the
norm. Polycarp and Anicetus could not agree, but parted
with mutual good-will, each adhering to his own practice.1
The problem was further complicated by a dispute, about 167,
in Laodicea, in Asia Minor itself, as to the nature of the cele
bration on the fourteenth of Nisan, some holding that Christ
died on the fourteenth, as the fourth Gospel intimates, and
others placing His death, as do the other Gospels, on the fif
teenth. The latter treated the commemoration of the four
teenth of Nisan, therefore, as a Christian continuation of the
Hebrew Passover.
1 Eusebius, Church History, 5 : 2416- 17 ; Ayer, p. 164.
THE EASTER CONTROVERSY 65
About 190 the problem became so acute that synods were
held in Rome, Palestine, and elsewhere which decided in favor
of the Roman practice. The churches of Asia Minor, led by
Polycrates, bishop of Ephesus, refused conformity. There
upon Victor, bishop of Rome (189-198), excommunicated the
recalcitrant congregations. This high-handed action met with
much protest, notably from Irenseus of Lyons, but it was a
marked assertion of Roman authority.1
These embittered controversies were costly to Asia Minor,
and any possible rivalry on equal terms of Ephesus and Rome
was out of the question. The collapse of Jewish Christian
leadership, the apparent lack at Antioch of men of eminence
in the second century, and the decline of the influence of Asia
Minor left Rome, by 200, the most eminent and influential
centre of Christianity — a position of which the Roman bishops
had the will and the ability to make full use. The rise of
Alexandria and of Carthage to importance in the Christian
thought and life of the third century could not rob Rome of
its leadership. Their attainment of Christian significance was
far younger than that of the capital of the empire.
SECTION VI. IREN^US
The earliest theological leader of distinction in the rising
Old Catholic Church was Irenseus. His argument in defense
of traditional Christianity against Gnosticism has already been
outlined.2 Born in Asia Minor, he was brought up in Smyrna,
where he saw and heard Polycarp. The date of his birth has
been most variously placed by modern scholars from about
115 to about 142, chiefly in the light of its possible bearing on
traditions as to the authorship of the fourth Gospel. The
later part of the period indicated has more probability than the
earlier. From Asia Minor he removed to Lyons in what is
now France, where he became a presbyter. The great perse
cution of 177, at Lyons, found him, fortunately, on an honor
able mission to Rome; and, on his return, he was chosen
bishop of Lyons, in succession to the martyred Pothinus.
That post he continued to hold till his death (c. 200). Not far
from 185 he wrote his chief work, Against Heresies, primarily
1 Eusebius, Church History, 5 : 23, 24 ; Ayer, pp. 161-165.
2 Ante, p. 60.
66 IREN^EUS
to refute the various Gnostic schools, but incidentally reveal
ing his own theology.
Brought up in the tradition of Asia Minor and spending his
later life in Gaul, Irenseus was a connecting-link not merely
between distant portions of the empire, but between the older
theology of the Johannine and Ignatian literature and the
newer 'presentations which the Apologists and the "Catholic''
movement of his own day were introducing. A man of deeply
religious spirit, his interest was in salvation. In its explica
tion he developed the Pauline and Ignatian conceptions of
Christ as the new man, the renewer of humanity, the second
Adam. God created the first Adam, He made him good and
immortal; but both goodness and immortality were lost by
Adam's disobedience. What man lost in Adam is restored in
Christ, the incarnate Logos, who now completes the interrupted
work. " I have shown that the Son of God did not then begin
to exist [i. e. at Jesus' birth], being with the Father from the
beginning; but when He became incarnate and was made
man, He commenced afresh the long line of human beings, and
furnished us, in a brief, comprehensive manner, with salvation ;
so that what we had lost in Adam — namely to be according to
the image and likeness of God — that we might recover in Christ
Jesus." l The work of Christ, thus described, Irenseus char
acterizes in a noble phrase. We follow "the only true and
steadfast Teacher, the Word of God, our Lord Jesus Christ, who
did through His transcendent love become what we are, that
He might bring us to be even what He is Himself." 2 Christ
is also the full revelation of God.3 Our union with Him, fol
lowing the teaching of Asia Minor and of Justin, Irenseus views
as in some sense physical, through the Supper.4 Irenseus's
theory of Christ's new headship of humanity had added to it
a suggestion of His mother as the second Eve. "The knot
of Eve's disobedience was loosened by the obedience of Mary.
For what the Virgin Eve had bound fast through unbelief,
this did the Virgin Mary set free through faith." 5 In this
curious ascription is one of the earliest evidences of that exalta
tion of the Virgin which was to play so large a part in Christian
history. In some ways, even for his time, Irenseus was an
old-fashioned man. The belief in Christ's speedy second com-
1 Heresies, 3 : 181 ; Ayer, pp. 137, 138. 2 Heresies, 5 ; Preface.
3 Ibid., 4 : 207. 4 Ibid., 4 : 185 ; Ayer, p. 138. 5 Ibid., 3 : 224.
TERTULLIAN'S LIFE AND WRITINGS 67
ing had been growing faint, and the contest with Montanism
was to extinguish it almost entirely With Irenseus it still
burned brightly, and he looked eagerly for the time when the
earth would be marvellously renewed.1 For Irenseus the New
Testament is as fully sacred Scripture as the Old.
1
SECTION VII. TERTULLIAN AND CYPRIAN
Tertullian was one of the most individual and remarkable
personalities of the ancient church. Born (c. 150-155) of
well-to-do heathen parentage in Carthage, he studied law and
practised his profession in Rome. He was exceedingly well
read in philosophy and history. Greek he had thoroughly
mastered. About 190 to 195, he was converted to Christianity,
probably in Rome, and now devoted himself with equal eager
ness to the study of Christian literature, orthodox and heretical.
Shortly after he returned to Carthage where he became a
presbyter, and remained till his death (c. 222-225). At first
in fellowship with the Roman Church, a wave of persecution
that broke over North Africa in 202 under the Emperor Sep-
timius Severus (193-211), strengthened his native Puritanism
and brought him into sympathy with Montanism. Its ascetic
and unworldly aspects most appealed to him. About 207 he
broke with the "Catholic" Church, which he thenceforth bit
terly criticised, and died in continuing protest, apparently, as
the founder of a little sect of his own-
In 197 Tertullian began a career of literary activity in de
fense and explication of Christianity which lasted till 220.
He was the first ecclesiastical writer of prominence to use Latin.
Even the leaders of the Roman Church wrote in Greek till
after his time. His style was vivid, satirical, readable. His-
method was often that of an advocate in the court-room. He
was frequently unfair to opponents. He was not always con
sistent with himself. But he was of a fiery earnestness of spirit
that makes what he wrote always impressive. He well deserves
the title of father of Latin theology.
Tertullian was, primarily, no speculative theologian. His
own thought was based on that of the Apologists, Irenseus, and
to some extent on other bearers of the tradition of Asia Minor,
and quite as much on Stoic teaching and legal conceptions.
*., 5: 33'; Ayer, p. 26.
68 TERTULLIAN'S THEOLOGY
He had the Roman sense of order and authority. All that he
touched, however, he formulated with the clearness of defini
tion of a trained judicial mind, and hence he gave precision,
as none had before him, to many theological conceptions that
had heretofore been vaguely apprehended.
For Tertullian Christianity was a great divine foolishness,
wiser than the highest philosophical wisdom of men, and in
no way to be squared with existing philosophical systems.1
In reality he looked upon it largely through Stoic spectacles.
Christianity is primarily knowledge of God. It is based on
reason — "the soul by nature Christian" 2 — and authority.
That authority is seated in the church, and only in the ortho
dox church, which alone has the truth, expressed in the creed,
and alone has a right to use the Scriptures.3 As with Irenseus,
these valid churches are those that agree in faith with those
founded by the Apostles, wherein the apostolic tradition has
been maintained by the succession of bishops.4 These are
utterances of the still "Catholic" Tertullian. As with Justin
and common Gentile Christianity of the second century,
Christianity for Tertullian is a new law. "Jesus Christ . . .
preached the new law and the new promises of the kingdom of
heaven."5 Admission to the church is by baptism, by which
previous sins are removed. It is "our sacrament of water, in
that by washing away the sins of our early blindness we are set
free into eternal life." 6 Those who have received it are thence
forth "competitors for salvation in earning the favor of God."7
Tertullian had a deeper sense of sin than any Christian
writer since Paul, and his teachings greatly aided the develop-
,/ment of the Latin conceptions of sin and grace. Though not
clearly worked out, and inconsistent with occasional expres
sions, Tertullian possessed a doctrine of original sin. "There
is, then, besides the evil which supervenes on the soul from the
intervention of the evil spirit, an antecedent, and in a certain
sense natural evil, which arises from its corrupt origin." 8 But
"the power of the grace of God is more potent indeed than
nature." 9 The nature of grace he nowhere fully explains.
It evidently included, however, not only "forgiveness of sins," 10
1 Prescription, 7. 2 Apology, 17. 3 Prescription, 13-19.
4 Ibid., 32. 5Ibid., 13. 6 Baptism, 1.
7 Repentance, 6. 8 Anima, 41. 9 Ibid., 21.
10 Baptism, 10.
TERTULLIAN'S CHRISTOLOGY 69
but also "the grace of divine inspiration/' by which power to
do right is infused to give force to man's feeble, but free, will.1
Loofs has shown that this latter conception, of the utmost
significance for the theology of Western Christendom, is of
Stoic origin.2 But though salvation is thus based on grace,
man has much to do. Though God forgives previous sins at
baptism, satisfaction must be made for those committed there
after by voluntary sacrifices, chiefly ascetic. The more a man
punishes himself, the less God will punish him.3
Tertullian's most influential work was the definition of the
Logos Christology, though he preferred to use the designa
tion Son rather than Logos. If he advanced its content lit
tle beyond what had already been presented by the theolo
gians of Asia Minor, and especially by the Apologists, his legal
mind gave a clearness to its explanation such as had not be
fore existed. Here his chief work was one written in his Mon-
tanist period — Against Praxeas. He defines the Godhead in
terms which almost anticipate the Nicene result of more than
a century later. "All are of one, by unity of substance;
while the mystery of the dispensation is still guarded which
distributes the unity into a Trinity, placing in their order
the three, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit; three,
however . . . not in substance but in form ; not in power
but in appearance, for they are of one substance and one
essence and one power, inasmuch as He is one God from
whom these degrees and forms and aspects are reckoned un
der the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy
Spirit."4 He describes these distinctions of the Godhead as
"persons,"5 meaning by the word not our usage in the sense
of personalities, but forms of manifestation. This unity of
^ubstance in Tertullian's thought is material, for he was suffi
ciently a Stoic to hold that " God is a body ... for spirit has
a bodily substance of its own kind." 6 With a similar precision,
Tertullian distinguished between the human and divine in
Christ. "We see His double state, not intermixed but con
joined in one person, Jesus, God and man." 7 Since both Son
and Spirit are derived from the Father by emanation, both are
1 Patience, 1.
2 Leitfaden zum Studium der Dogrnengeschichte, p. 164.
3 Repentance, 2, 9. * Praxeas, 2. 5 Ibid., 12.
6 Ibid., 7. ' Ibid., 27.
70 CYPRIAN'S DOCTRINE OF THE CHURCH
subordinate to Him.1 This doctrine of subordination, already
taught in the Apologists, was to remain characteristic of the
Logos Christology till the time of Augustine. These definitions
were far more the work of a lawyer-like, judicial interpreta
tion, than of philosophical consideration. As the first, also,
to give technical usage to such expressions as trinitas, sub-
stantia, sacramentwn, satisfacere, meritum, Tertullian left his
permanent impress on Latin theology.
Cyprian was, in many ways, the intellectual heir of Tertul
lian, whom he called master. Born probably in Carthage,
about 200, he spent all his life in that city. A man of wealth
and education, he won distinction as a teacher of rhetoric.
About 246 he was converted to the Christian faith, and two or
three years later was chosen to the bishopric of Carthage.
Here he showed high executive ability, and much practical good
sense and kindliness of spirit without the touch of genius that
characterized Tertullian. The persecution of 250 he escaped
by flight ; but in that of 258 he stood boldly forth and suffered
as a martyr by beheading. Few leaders of the ancient church
have been more highly regarded by subsequent ages.
In Cyprian's teaching the tendencies illustrated in the de
velopment of the "Catholic" Church received their full expres
sion. The church is the one visible orthodox community of
Christians. "There is one God, and Christ is one, and there
is one church, and one chair (episcopate) founded upon the
rock by the word of the Lord." 2 "Whoever he may be and
whatever he may be, he who is not in the church of Christ is
not a Christian." 3 " He can no longer have God for his Father,
who has not the church for his mother." 4 "There is no sal
vation out of the church." 5 The church is based on the unity
of its bishops, "whence ye ought to know that the bishop is
in the church and the church in the bishop ; and if any one be
not with the bishop, that he is not in the church." 6 "The
episcopate is one, each part of which is held by each one in
its entirety." 7 This last quotation has its bearing on a con
troversy still alive as to whether Cyprian regarded all bishops
as equal sharers in a common episcopal authority, the posses
sion of each and of all ; or held to the superiority of the bishop
1 Praxeas, 7, 9. 2 Letters, 39-435. 3 Ibid., 51-5524.
4 Unity of the Church, 6. 5 Letters, 72-7321. 6 Ibid., G8-668.
7 Unity of the Church, 5 ; Ayer, p. 242.
RENEWED CHRISTOLOGICAL DISCUSSIONS 71
of Rome. He certainly quoted Matt. 1618> 19.1 He looked upon
Peter as the typical bishop. He referred to Rome as uthe chief
church whence priestly unity takes its source." Rome was to
him evidently the highest church in dignity ; but Cyprian was
not ready to admit a judicial authority over others in the Roman
bishop, or to (regard him as more than the first among equals.
Cyprian's significance as a witness to the full development of
the doctrine that the Lord's Supper is a sacrifice offered by the
priest to God will be considered in Section XIV. His concep
tion of the Christian life, like that of Tertullian, was ascetic.
Martyrdom is bringing forth fruit an hundredfold ; voluntary
celibacy, sixty fold.3
SECTION VIII. THE TRIUMPH OF THE LOGOS CHRISTOLOGY
IN THE WEST
Though the "Catholic" Church was combating successfully
the Gnostics, and though the Logos Christology was that of
such formative minds as those of the writer of the fourth
Gospel, Justin, Irenseus, and Tertullian, that Christology was
not wholly regarded with sympathy by the rank and file of
believers. Hermas had taught an adoptionist Christology at
Rome as late as 140. The Apostles' Creed has no reference to
any Logos doctrine. Tertullian says significantly of his own
time (213-218) : "The simple— I will not call them unwise or
unlearned — who always constitute the majority of believers,
are startled at the dispensation of the three in one, on the
ground that their very rule of faith withdraws them from the
world's plurality of gods to the one only true God." 4 It was
difficult for them to see in trinitarian conceptions aught else
but an assertion of tritheism. The last decade of the second
and the first two of the third centuries were an important epoch,
therefore, in Christological discussion, especially in Rome,
where the question was in the balance.
To some extent this new Christological discussion seems to
have been the indirect result of Montanism. That movement
had made much of the fourth Gospel, proclaiming itself the in
auguration of the dispensation of the Spirit, therein promised.
Some opponents of Montanism in Asia Minor, in their reaction
1 E. g., Unity of the Church, 4. 2 Letters, 54-5914.
8 Ibid., 76°. « Praxeas, 3.
72 THE DYNAMIC MONARCHIANS
from its teachings, went so far as to reject the fourth Gospel
and its doctrine of the Logos. Of these "Alogoi," as Epiph-
anius (?-403), writing much later, nicknamed them, little is
known in detail, but some of the critics of the Logos Christology
who now came into prominence were apparently influenced by
them. To these opponents in general the name Monarchians
is usually given — a title coined by Tertullian1 — since they as
serted the unity of God. The Monarchians fell into two very
unlike classes, those who held that Jesus was the Son of God
by adoption, the so-called Dynamic Monarchians; and those
who held that Christ was but a temporary form of manifesta
tion of the one God, the party known as the Modalistic Mo
narchians. Thus, with the supporters of the Logos view, three
Christologies were contesting in Rome at the beginning of the
third century.
The first Dynamic Monarchian of prominence was Theodotus,
called the currier, or tanner, from Byzantium. He wa's a man of
learning, and is said to have been a disciple of the Alogoi, though,
unlike them, he accepted in some sense the fourth Gospel.
About 190 he came to Rome, and there taught that Jesus was
a man, born of the Virgin, of holy life, upon whom the divine
Christ (or the Holy Spirit) descended at His baptism. Some
of Theodotus's followers denied to Jesus any title to divinity ;
but others held that He became in some sense divine at His
resurrection.2 One is reminded of the Christology of Hermas
(Ante, p. 39). Theodotus was excommunicated by Bishop Vic
tor of Rome (189-198) ; but his work there was continued by
Theodotus, "the money-changer," and Asclepiodorus, like their
master, probably from the Orient ; but their effort to found a
rival communion outside the "Catholic" Church amounted to
little. The last attempt to present a similar theology in Rome
was that of a certain Artemon (230-40-270), but Dynamic
Monarchianism in the West was already moribund. Yet it
undoubtedly represented a type of Christology that was one
of the oldest in the Christian Church.
The Dynamic Monarchian party was stronger and more
persistent in the East. There it had its most famous represen
tative in Paul of Samosata, the able and politically gifted
bishop of Antioch from c. 260 to 272. He represented the
1 Praxeas, 3, 10.
2 Hippolytus, Refutation, 723, 1019; Ayer, p. 172.
THE MODALISTIC MONARCHIANS 73
Logos, which he also described as the Son of God, as an imper
sonal attribute of the Father. This Logos had inspired Moses
and the prophets. Jesus was a man, unique in that He was born
of the Virgin, who was filled with the power of God, i. e., by
God's Logos. By this indwelling inspiration Jesus was united
in will by lovte to God, but did not become in substance one
with God. That union is moral, but inseparable. By reason
of it Christ was raised from the dead, and given a kind of dele
gated divinity. Between 264 and 269 three synods considered
Paul of Samosata's views, by the last of which he was excom
municated ; but he kept his place till driven out by the Em
peror Aurelian (p. 106).
Much more numerous than the Dynamic Monarchians were
the Modalistic Monarchians, who made an appeal to the many
for the reason already quoted from Tertullian (ante, p. 71), that
in the presence of heathen polytheism, the unity of God seemed
a prime article of the Christian faith, and any Logos concep
tion or Dynamic Monarchianism seemed to them a denial of
that unity. Cyprian coined for these Modalistic Monarchians
the nickname Patripassians.1 The leader of Modalistic Mo
narchianism was, like that of Dynamic Monarchianism, an
Oriental Christian, Noetus, probably of Smyrna. The same
controversies in Asia Minor may well have called forth both in
terpretations. Of N-oetus little is known save that he taught
in his native region in the period -180 to 200, "that Christ was
the Father Himself, and that the Father Himself was born and
suffered and died." These views were transplanted to Rome,
about 190, by a certain Praxeas, a follower of Noetus and an
opponent of the Montanists, regarding whom Tertullian, then
a Montanist and always a defender of the Logos Christology,
said : " Praxeas did two works of the devil in Rome. He drove
out prophecy and introduced heresy. He put to flight the
Holy Spirit and crucified the Father." 3 A little later two other
disciples of Noetus, Epigonus and Cleomenes, came to Rome
and won, in large measure, the sympathy of Bishop Zephyrinus
(198-217) for the Modalistic Monarchian position.
The most noted leader of the Modalistic school, whose name
became permanently associated with this Christology, was Sa-
1 Letters, 72-7S4.
2 Hippolytus, Against Noetus, 1 ; Ay or, p. 177.
3 Praxeas, 1 ; Ayer, p. 179.
74 SABELLIUS AND HIPPOLYTUS
bellius, of whose early life little is known, but who was teaching
in Rome about 215. His theology was essentially that of Noe-
tus, but much more carefully wrought out, especially in that
it gave a definite place to the Holy Spirit as well as to the
Son. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are all one and the same.
Each is a prosopon — TrpdswTrov — (a word of large later ortho
dox use), that is a character or form of manifestation, of the
one God, who showed Himself in His character of creator as
the Father, in that of redeemer as the Son, and now as the
Holy Spirit. Sabellius, though soon excommunicated at Rome,
found large following for his views in the East, especially in
Egypt and Libya. Nor was he without considerable influence
on the development of what became the orthodox Christology.
His absolute identification of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit was
rejected; but it implied an equality which ultimately, as in
Augustine, triumphed over the subordination of Son and Spirit
characteristic of the Logos Christology both of Tertullian and
Athanasius.
The great advocate of the Logos Christology at this juncture
in Rome was Hippolytus (160-170 — c. 235), the most learned
Christian writer then in the city, and the last considerable
theologian there to use Greek rather than Latin as his vehicle
of expression. As a commentator, chronicler, calculator of
Easter dates, Apologist, and opponent of heretics, he was held
in such high repute that his followers erected after his death
the earliest Christian portrait statue known. He opposed
vigorously the Monarchians of both schools. The fight in
Rome waxed hot. Bishop Zephyrinus (198-217) hardly knew
what to do, though he leaned toward the Monarchian side.
On his death he was succeeded by Kallistos (Calixtus, 217-222),
the most energetic and assertive bishop that Rome had yet
seen — a man who had been born a slave, had engaged unsuc
cessfully in banking, and had, for a time, been a sufferer for his
Christian faith in the mines of Sardinia. Over Zephyrinus he
acquired great influence, and on his own attainment of the
bishopric, issued in his own name certain regulations as to the
readmission to the church of those repentant of sins of licen
tiousness, which show higher ecclesiastical claims than any here
tofore advanced by a Roman bishop (see p. 101). Kallistos saw
that these disputes were hurting the Roman Church. He there
fore excommunicated Sabellius (c. 217), and charged Hippolytus
VICTORY OF THE LOGOS CHRISTOLOGY 75
with being a worshipper of two g< ds.1 Hippolytus now broke
with Kallistos, on this ground and on questions regarding dis
cipline, and became the head of a rival communion in Rome
—the first "counter-pope" — a position which he maintained
till his banishment in the persecution of 235.
Kallistos tried to find a compromise formula in this Chris-
tological confusion. Father, Son and Logos, he held, are all
names ;of "one indivisible spirit." Yet Son is also the proper
designation of that which was visible, Jesus ; while the Father
was the spirit in Him. This presence of the Father in Jesus
is "the Logos. Kallistos was positive that the Father did not
suffer on the cross, but suffered with the sufferings of the Son,
Jesus; yet the Father "after He had taken unto Himself our
flesh, raised it to the nature of deity, by bringing it into union
with Himself, and made it one, so that Father and Son must
be styled one God."5 This is, indeed, far from logical or clear.
One cannot blame Hippolytus or Sabellius for not liking it.
Yet it was a compromise which recognized a pre-existent Logos
in Christ, even if it identified that Logos with the Father;
it insisted on the identity of that which indwelt Jesus with
God ; and it claimed a human Jesus, raised to divinity by the
Father, and made one with Him, thus really showing a distinc
tion between the Father and the Son, while denying in words
that one exists. This compromise won the majority in Rome,
and opened the door for the full victory of the Logos Chris
tology there. That victory was determined by the able ex
position of that Christology which came at the turning-point
in this conflict (213-218) from the pen of Tertullian of Car
thage — Against Praxeas (see ante, p. 69), with its clear defini
tions of a Trinity in three persons and of a distinction between
the divine and human in Christ.
How completely this Christology won its way in Western
Christendom is shown by the treatise on the Trinity, written by
the Roman presbyter, Novatian, between 240 and 250. That
eminent scholar was the first in the local Roman communion
to use Latin rather than Greek. His quarrel with the dominant
party in the church will be described later (p. 102). Novatian
did little more than reproduce and expand Tertullian's views.
But it is important that he treated this exposition as the only
normal and legitimate interpretation of the "rule of truth"— the
1 Hippolytus, Refutation, 96.
76 VICTORY OF THE /LOGOS CHRISTOLOGY
"Apostles' Creed." That syubol had been silent regarding the
Logos Christology. To No^atian the Logos Christology is its
only proper meaning. Between Father and Son a "communion
of substance" exists.1 The Latin equivalent of the later famous
Nicene Homoousion — o^oovcriov — was therefore current in Rome
before 250. Novatian has even a social Trinity. Comment
ing on John 1030, "I and the Father are one," he declares that
Christ "said one thing (unum). Let the heretics understand
that He did not say one person. For one placed in the neuter
intimates the social concord, not the personal unity." The
most valuable thing in Novatian is that he emphasized what
was the heart of the conviction of the church in all this involved
Christological controversy, that Christ was fully God and
equally fully man.3 Finally, about 262, the Roman bishop,
Dionysius (259-268), writing against the Sabellians, expressed
the Logos Christology in terms more nearly approximating to
what was to be the Nicene decision of 325 than any other third-
century theologian.4 Thus the West had reached conclusions
readily harmonizable with the result at Nicsea, more than
sixty years before that great council. The East had attained
no such uniformity.
SECTION IX. THE ALEXANDRIAN SCHOOL
Alexandria was, for more than six centuries, the second city
of the ancient world, surpassed only by Rome, and later by Con
stantinople, in importance. Founded by Alexander the Great
in B. C. 332, it was primarily a trading community, and as
such, attracted numbers of Greeks and Jews. Its intellectual
life was no less remarkable. Its library was the most famous
in the empire. In its streets East and West met. There Greek
philosophy entered into association, or competed in rivalry,
with Judaism and many other Oriental cults, while the influence
of ancient Egyptian thought persisted. It was the most
cosmopolitan city of the ancient world. There the Old Testa
ment was translated into Greek, and there Philo reinterpreted
Judaism in terms of Hellenic philosophy. There Neo-Platonism
was to arise in the third century of our era. Of the introduc
tion of Christianity into Alexandria, or into Egypt generally,
1 Trinity, 31. 2 Ibid., 27.
3 Ibid., 11, 24. 4 In Athanasius, De Decretis, 26.
THE ALEXANDRIAN SCHOOL 77
nothing is known, hut it must have been early, since when the
veil of silence was lifted Christianity was evidently strongly
rooted there. The Gnostic, Basilides, taught in Alexandria in
the reign of Hadrian (117-138). There the various philosoph
ical systems had their "schools/' where instruction could be
obtained by all inquirers, and it was but natural that Christian
teachers should imitate this good example, though it would
appear that the beginnings of this work were independent of
the Alexandrian Church authorities.
By about 185 a famous catechetical school existed in Alex
andria, then under the leadership of a converted Stoic phi
losopher, Pantsenus. Whether it originated with him, or what
his own theological position may have been, it is impossible
to determine. With Clement of Alexandria (?-c. 215), Pan-
tsenus's pupil and successor, it comes into the light. The
course of religious development in Alexandria had evidently
differed from that in Asia Minor and the West. In the latter
regions the contest with Gnosticism had bred a distrust of
philosophy such that Tertullian could declare that there was
no possible connection between it and Christianity. That
contest had, also, immensely strengthened the appeal to apos
tolical tradition and consolidated organization. In Alexandria
these characteristics of the "Old Catholic" Church had not so
jfully [developed, while philosophy was regarded not as incon-
>/sistent with Christianity, but as its handmaid. Here a union
of what was best in ancient philosophy, chiefly Platonism and
Stoicism, was effected to a degree nowhere else realized in
orthodox circles, and the result was a Christian Gnosticism.
Clement of Alexandria was typical of this movement. At the
same time he was a presbyter in the Alexandrian Church, thus
serving as a connecting-link between the church and the school.
The more important of the works of Clement which have
survived are three : his Exhortation to the Heathen, an apologetic
treatise, giving incidentally no little information as to the
mystery religions; his Instructor, the first treatise on Chris
tian conduct, and an invaluable mine of information as to the
customs of the age ; and his Stromata, or Miscellanies, a collec
tion of profound thoughts on religion and theology, arranged
without much regard to system. Throughout he shows the
mind of a highly trained and widely read thinker. Clement
would interpret Christianity as Philo did Judaism, by phi-
78 CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA
losophy, into scientific dogmatics. To him, as to Justin, whom
he far surpassed in clearness of intellectual grasp, the divine
Logos has always been the source of all the intelligence and
morality of the human race — the teacher of mankind every
where. " Our instructor is the holy God, Jesus, the Word who
is the guide of all humanity." l He was the source of all true
philosophy. " God is the cause of all good things ; but of some
primarily, as of the Old and the New Testament ; and of others
by consequence, as of philosophy. Perchance, too, philosophy
was given to the Greeks directly and primarily, till the Lord
should call the Greeks. For this was a schoolmaster to bring
the Hellenic mind, as the law the Hebrews, to Christ."
This training of humanity by the Logos has been, therefore,
a progressive education. So it is, also, in the church. " Faith,"
that is simple, traditional Christianity, is enough for salvation ;
but the man who adds to his faith "knowledge," has a higher
possession.3 He is the true, Christian Gnostic. "To him that
hath shall be given ; to faith, knowledge ; to knowledge, love ;
and to love, the inheritance." 4 The highest good to which
knowledge leads — a good even greater than the salvation which
it necessarily involves — is the knowledge of God. "Could
we then suppose any one proposing to the Gnostic whether he
would choose the knowledge of God or everlasting salvation;
and if these, which are entirely identical, were separable, he
would without the least hesitation choose the knowledge of
God." 5 That highest good brings with it an almost Stoic
absence of feeling, either of pleasure or of pain — a condition of
blessedness in which Clement believes Christ stood, and to
which the Apostles attained through His teaching.6 One can
readily comprehend that Clement, like Justin, had no real
interest in the earthly life of Jesus. The Logos then became
incarnate, indeed, but Clement's view of Christ's life is almost
Docetic, certainly more so than that of any teacher of orthodox
standing in the church of his own day.
Clement wrought out no complete theological system.
That was to be the task of his even more celebrated pupil
and successor in the headship of the Alexandrian catechetical
school — Origen. Born of Christian parentage, probably in
Alexandria, between 182 and 185, Origen grew up there into a
1 Instructor, I7. 2 Stromata, I5; Ayer, p. 190. 3 Ibid., I6.
4 Ibid., 710. 5 Ibid., 422. 6 Ibid., 69.
ORIGEN'S LIFE 79
familiarity with the Scriptures that was to render him the
most fully acquainted with the Bible of any of the writers in
the early church. His study of philosophy must also have
been early begun. A youth of intense feeling and eager mental
curiosity, he was as remarkable for his precocity as for the
later ripeness* of his scholarship. The persecution under Sep-
timius Severus, in 202, cost the life of Origen's father, and
he would have shared the same fate had not his mother frus
trated his wishes by a stratagem. This persecution had driven
Origen's teacher, Clement, from the city; and now, in 203, in
spite of his youth, he gathered round himself inquirers with
whom he reconstituted the catechetical school. This position
he held with great success and with the approval of Bishop
Demetrius, till 215, when the Emperor Caracalla drove all
teachers of philosophy from Alexandria. His instruction had
before been interrupted by visits to Rome (c. 211-212), where
he met Hippolytus, and to Arabia (c. 213-214). His manner
of life was ascetic in the extreme, and to avoid slander arising
out of his relations with his numerous inquirers he emasculated
himself, taking Matt. 1912 as a counsel of perfection. The year
215 saw Origen in Csesarea in Palestine, where he made friends
of permanent value. Permitted to return to Alexandria, proba
bly in 216, he resumed his instruction, and began a period of
scholarly productivity the results of which were little short of
marvellous.
Origen's labors in Alexandria were broken by a journey to
Greece and Palestine in 230 or 231. He was still a layman;
but, by friendly Palestinian bishops he was ordained a presby
ter, in Caesarea, probably that he might be free to preach.
This ordination of an Alexandrian layman, Bishop Demetrius
of Alexandria not unnaturally viewed as an intrusion on his
jurisdiction, and jealousy of the successful teacher may have
added to his resentment. At all events, Demetrius held
synods by which Origen was banished from Alexandria, and
as far as was in their power, deposed from the ministry. He
now found a congenial home in friendly Caesarea. Here he con
tinued his indefatigable studies, his teaching, and to them he
added frequent preaching. He made occasional journeys. He
was surrounded by friends who held him in the highest esteem.
With the great Decian persecution (see p. 86) of 250, this period
of peace ended. He was imprisoned and tortured, and died either
80 ORIGEN'S THEOLOGY
in Csesarea or Tyre, probably in 251 (254?) as a consequence
of the cruelties he had undergone. No man of purer spirit or
nobler aims ornaments the history of the ancient church.
Origen was a man of many-sided scholarship. The field to
which he devoted most attention was that of Biblical text-
criticism and exegesis. Here his chief productions were his
monumental Hexapla, giving the Hebrew and four parallel
Greek translations of the Old Testament; and a long series of
commentaries and briefer notes treating nearly the entire
range of Scripture. It was the most valuable work that had
yet been done by any Christian scholar. In the field of the-
\/)logy his De Principiis, written before 231, was not merely the
first great systematic presentation of Christianity, but its
thoughts and methods thenceforth controlled Greek dogmatic
development. His Against Celsus, written between 246 and
248, in reply to the ablest criticism of Christianity that heathen
ism had produced — that of the Platonist Celsus (c. 177) — was
the keenest and most convincing defense of the Christian faith
that the ancient world brought forth, and one fully worthy of
the greatness of the controversy. Besides these monumental
undertakings he found time for the discussion of practical
Christian themes, such as prayer and martyrdom, and for the
preparation of many sermons. His was indeed a life of un
wearied industry.
In Origen the process was complete which had long been
interpreting Christian truths in terms of Hellenic thinking.
He gave to the Christian system the fullest scientific standing,
v as tested by the science of that age, which was almost entirely
comprised in philosophy and ethics. His philosophic stand
point was essentially Platonic and Stoic, with a decided leaning
toward positions similar to those of the rising Neo-Platonism,
the lectures of whose founder, Ammonius Saccas, he is said to
have heard.1 These philosophic principles he sought to bring
into harmony with the Scriptures, as his great Hebrew fellow
townsman, Philo, had done, by allegorical interpretation of
the Bible. All normal Scripture, he held, has a threefold
meaning. "The simple man may be edified by the 'flesh' as
it were of the Scriptures, for so we name' the obvious sense ;
while he who has ascended a certain way may be edified by
the ' soul ' as it were ; the perfect man . . . may receive edifi-
iEusebius, Church History, 6: 196.
OUIGEX'S THEOLOGY 81
cation from the spiritual law, which has a shadow of good
things to come. For as man consists of body and soul and
spirit, so in the same way does Scripture."1 This allegorical
system enabled Origen to read practically what he wished into
the Scriptures.
As a necessary foundation for his theological system, Origen
posited that "which differs in no respect from ecclesiastical
and apostolical tradition." These fundamentals of tradi
tional Christianity include belief (1) "in one God . . . the
Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, [who] Himself gave the law
and the prophets and the Gospels, being also the God of the
Apostles and of the Old and New Testaments" ; (2) "that Jesus
Christ Himself . . . was born of the Father before all creatures
. . . became a man, and was incarnate although God, and
while made a man remained the God which He was . . . was
born of a Virgin . . . was truly born and did truly suffer and
. . . did truly die . . . did truly rise from the dead" ; (3) "that
the Holy Spirit was associated in honor and dignity with the
Father and the Son" ; (4) in the resurrection and in future re
wards and punishments ; (5) in free will ; (6) in the existence
and opposition of the devil and his angels ; (7) that the world
was made in time and will "be destroyed on account of its
wickedness" ; (8) "that the Scriptures were written by the Spirit
of God " ; (9) " that there are certain angels of God, and cer
tain good influences which are His servants in accomplishing the
salvation of men." 3 These are essential beliefs for all Chris
tians, learned and unlearned, as taught by the church; and on
them Origen proceeded to erect his mighty fabric of systematic
theology — that explanation of Christianity for him who would
add to his faith knowledge.
Origen's conception of the universe was strongly Platonic.
The real world is the spiritual reality behind this temporary,
phenomenal, visible world. In that world great transactions
have had their place. There, as with Plato, our spirits existed.
There sin first entered. There we fell, and thither the redeemed
will return. God, the uncreated, perfect Spirit, is the source of
all. From Him the Son is eternally generated. " His generation
is as eternal and everlasting as the brilliancy which is produced
from the sun." 4 Yet Christ is "a second God." 5 a "crea-
1 De Principiis, 4 : 111 ; Ayer, pp. 200, 201. 2 De Principiis, Preface.
3 All ibid. 4 De Principiis, 1 : 24. 5 Celsus, 539.
82 ORIGEN'S THEOLOGY
ture." Christ's position, as Loofs has pointed out, was viewed
by Origen as the same as that of the nous — mind, thought — in
the Neo-Platonic system. He is the "mediator'' between God
and His world of creatures, the being through whom they were
made. Highest of these creatures is the Holy Spirit, whom
Origen reckons to the Godhead, by reason of churchly tradi
tion, but for whom he has no real necessity in his system.
All spiritual beings, including the spirits of men, were made
by God, through the Son, in the true spiritual world. "He
had no other reason for creating them than on account of
Himself, i. e. His own goodness." 1 All were good, though their
goodness, unlike that of God, was "an accidental and perisha
ble quality."2 All had free will. Hence some fell by sin in
the invisible spiritual world. It was as a place of punishment
and of reform that God created this visible universe, placing
fallen spirits therein in proportion to the heinousness of their
sins. The least sinful are angels and have as bodies the stars.
Those of greater sinfulness are on the face of the earth, with
animal souls, also, and mortal bodies. They constitute man
kind. The worst are the demons, led by the devil himself.
Salvation was wrought by the Logos-Son becoming man, by
uniting with a human soul that had not sinned in its previous
existence and a pure body. While here Christ was God and
man ; but at the resurrection and ascension Christ's humanity
was given the glory of His divinity, and is no longer human
but divine.3 That transformation Christ effects for all His
disciple 3. "From Him there began the union of the divine
with the human nature, in order that the human, by commu
nion with the divine, might rise to be divine, not in Jesus alone,
but in all those who not only believe but enter upon the life
which Jesus taught." 4 Origen, more than any theologian
since Paul, emphasized the sacrificial character of Christ's
death ; but he interpreted it in many ways, some of which were
not very consistent with others. Christ suffered what was " for
the good of the human race" as a representative and an exam
ple.5 He was in some sense a propitiatory offering to God. He
was a ransom paid to the powers of evil.6 He conquered the
demons.7 He frustrated their expectation that they could hold
1 De Principtis, 2 : 96. 2 Ibid., 1 : 62. 3 Celsus, 341.
4 Ibid., 32». 5 Ibid,, 717 ; Ayer, p. 197.
6 Com. on Matt., 1228, 168; Ayer, p. 197, 7 Com. on John, 637.
ORIGEN'S THEOLOGY 83
Him by the bonds of death and brought their kingdom to an
end.1 Those of mankind who are His disciples are received at
death into Paradise; the evil find their place in hell. Yet,
ultimately, not only all men, but even the devil and all spirits
with him will be saved.2 This will be the restoration of all
things, when God will be all in all.
r Origen's theological structure is the greatest intellectual
achievement of the ante-Nicene Church. It influenced pro
foundly all after-thinking in the Orient. Yet it is easy to see
how he could be quoted on either side in the later Christological
controversies, and to understand, in the light of a later rigid or
thodoxy, how he came to be regarded as a heretic, whose views
were condemned by a synod in his native Alexandria in 399 or
400, by the Emperor Justinian in 443, and by the Fifth General
Council in 553. His work was professedly for the learned, not
for the common Christian. Because its science is not our sci
ence it seems strange to us. But it gave to Christianity full
scientific standing in that age. In particular, the
Clement and Origen greatly advanced the
Logos Christology in the Orient, though Sabell
wide-spread there, and an adoptionist Christoload an emi
nent representative in the bishop of Antioch, Paul of Samosata,
as late as 272.
Yet Origen was not without serious critics in the century in
which he lived. Of these the most important, theologically,
was Methodius, bishop of CMfcws, in Lycia, who died about
311. Taking his stand on t^padition of Asia Minor, Metho
dius denied Origen's doctrines of the soul's pre-existence and
imprisonment in this world, and affirmed the resurrection of
the body. In ability he was not to be compared with Origen.
SECTION X. CHURCH AND STATE FROM 180 TO 260
The visible decline of the Roman Empire is usually reckoned
from the death of Marcus Aurelius (180), though its causes go
back much further. Population was diminishing. Trade and
industry were fettered by heavy taxation. The leadership
passed more and more from the hands of the cultivated classes.
The army was largely recruited from the outlying provinces of
the empire, and even from tribes beyond its borders. From the
1 Com. on Matt., 139. 2 De Principiis, 1 : 6l-<; Ayer, p. 198.
84 DECLINE OF EMPIRE, GROWTH OF CHURCH
death of Commodus (192), it dictated the choice of Emperors,
who, in general, were very far from representing the higher
type of Grseco-Roman culture, as had the Antonines. The
whole administrative machinery of the empire was increasingly
inefficient, and the defense of its borders inadequate. From
a military point of view, conditions grew steadily worse till the
time of Aurelian (270-275), and were hardly securely bettered
till that of Diocletian (284-305). In other respects no consid
erable pause was achieved in the decline. Yet this period was
also one of increasing feeling of popular unity in the empire.
The lines of distinction between the races were breaking down.
In 212 the Roman citizenship was extended by Caracalla, not
wholly from disinterested motives, to all free inhabitants of the
empire. Above all, from a religious point of view, the close
of the second and the whole of the third centuries were an age
of syncretism, a period of deepening religious feeling, in which
the mystery religions of the Orient — and Christianity also —
ma^^^xceedingly rapid increase in the number of their ad-
^(PPgro^Mpf the church was extensive as well as intensive.
To near the^KTse of the second century it had penetrated little
beyond those whose ordinary tongue was Greek. By the dawn
of the third century the church was rapidly advancing in Latin-
speaking North Africa and, though more slowly, in Spain and
Gaul, and reaching toward, if it had not already arrived in,
Britain. In Egypt Christiai^k was now penetrating the
native population, while by 19(JBBas well represented in Syriac-
speaking Edessa. The church was also reaching more exten
sively than earlier into the higher classes of society. It was
being better understood ; and though Tertullian shows that
the old popular slanders of cannibalism and gross immorality
were still prevalent in 197,1 as the third century went on they
seem to have much decreased, doubtless through growing ac
quaintance with the real significance of Christianity.
The relations of the state to the church during the period
from 180 to 260 were most various, depending on the will of
the several Emperors, but, on the whole, such as to aid rather
hinder its growth till the last decade of this period.
Christianity was condemned. It had no right to
exiM2 Practically, it enjoyed a considerable degree of tolera-
Apology, 7. 2 Tertullian, Apology, 4.
THE ATTITUDE OF THE EMPERORS 85
tion during most of this epoch. The persecution which had
been begun under Marcus Aurelius continued into the reign of
Commodus, but he soon neglected the church as he did afoul ev
erything else not connected with his own pleasures. This rest
continued till well into the reign of Septimius Severus (193-211) ;
but was broken in 202 by a persecution of considerable severity,
especially in Carthage and Egypt. Under Caracalla (211-217),
persecution again raged in North Africa. Elagabalus (218-
222), though an ardent supporter of sun-worship, was disposed
to a syncretism which was not openly hostile to Christianity.
Alexander Severus (222-235) was distinctly favorable. A syn-
cretist who would unite many religions, he placed a bust of
Christ in his private chapel along with images of leaders of
other faiths; while his mother, Julia Mamsea, under whose in
fluence he stood, heard lectures by Origen. He even decided
a dispute as to whether a piece of property in Rome should
be used by its Christian claimants, doubtless as a place of
worship, or by their opponents as a cook-shop, in favor of
the Christians. A change of policy came under Maximinus
(235-238), by whom an edict against the Christians was is
sued, which, though not extensively enforced, thrust both the
"Catholic" bishop, Pontianus, and his schismatic rival Hip-
polytus from Rome into the cruel slavery of the mines, where
they soon lost their lives. In eastern Asia Minor and Palestine
this persecution made itself felt. Under Gordian (238-244)
and till near the end of the reign of Philip the Arabian (244-
249) the church had rest. For that new outbreak Philip was
in no way responsible. Indeed, an erroneous rumor declared
him to be secretly a Christian. The number of martyrs in
these persecutions was not large, as Origen testified, writing
between 246 and 248,1 and these outbreaks were local, if at
times of considerably extent. Though Christians were deprived
of all legal protecting, the average believer must have thought
that the conditioi^^f the church was approaching practical
safety.
This growing feeling of security was rudely dispelled. The
year 248 saw the celebration of the^thousandth anniversary of /
the founding of Rome. It was a time of revival of ancient ^
traditions and of the memories of former splendors. The em
pire was never more threatened by barbarian attack or torn
1 Celsus, 38.
86 THE DECIAN PERSECUTION
by internal disputes. The populace attributed these troubles
to the cessation of persecution.1 A fierce mob attack broke
out in Alexandria before the death of Philip the Arabian. To
the more observant heathens the growth of a rigidly organized
church might well seem that of a state within the state, the
more dangerous that Christians still largely refused army ser
vice or the duties of public office.2 Nearer at hand lay the
plausible, though fallacious, argument that as Rome had grown
great when the old gods were worshipped by all, so now their
rejection by a portion of the population had cost Rome their
aid, and had caused the calamities evident on every hand.
This was apparently the feeling of the new Emperor, Decius
(249-251), and of a conservative Roman noble, Valerian, with
whom Decius was intimately associated. The result was the
edict of 250, which initiated the first universal and systematic
persecution of Christianity.
The Decian persecution was by far the worst trial that the
church as a whole had undergone — the more severe because it
had principle and determination behind it. The aim was not
primarily to take life, though there were numerous and cruel
martyrdoms, but rather to compel Christians by torture, im
prisonment, or fear to sacrifice to the old gods. Bishops Fa
bian of Rome and Babylas of Antioch died as martyrs. Origen
and hosts of others were tortured. The number of these "con
fessors" was very great. So, also, was the number of the
"lapsed" — that is, of those who, through fear or torture, sac
rificed, burned incense, or procured certificates from friendly
or venal officials that they had duly worshipped in the form
prescribed by the state.3 Many of these lapsed, when the per
secution was over, returned to seek in bitter penitence read-
mission to the church. The question of their treatment caused
a long, enduring schism in Rome, and much trouble elsewhere
(see p. 101). Fierce as it was, the persecution under Decius
and Valerian was soon over; but only to be renewed in some
what milder form by Decius's successor, Gallus (251-253).
In 253 Decius's old associate in persecution, Valerian, obtained
possession of the empire (253-260). Though he at first left
the Christians undisturbed, in 257 and 258 he renewed the at
tack with greater ferocity. Christian assemblies were forbid-
1 Origen, Celsus, 316 ; Ayer, p. 206, 2 Origen, Celsus, 873- 76.
3 Ayer, p. 210, for specimens,
THE PERSECUTION OF VALERIAN 87
den; Christian churches and cemeteries confiscated; bishops,
priests, and deacons ordered to be executed, and lay Chris
tians in high places disgraced, banished, and their goods held
forfeited. Under this persecution Cyprian died in Carthage,
Bishop Sixtus II and the Deacon Laurentius in Rome, and
Bishop Fructufosus in Tarragona in Spain. It was a fearful pe
riod of trial, lasting, with intermissions indeed, from 250 to 259.
In 260 Valerian became a prisoner in the hands of the vic
torious Persians. His son, associate Emperor and successor,
Gallienus (260-268), a thoroughly weak and incompetent ruler,
promptly gave up the struggle with Christianity. Church
property was returned, and a degree of favor shown that has
sometimes, though erroneously, been interpreted as a legal
toleration. That the act of Gallienus was not. The old laws
against Christianity were unrepealed. Practically, however, a
peace began which was to last till the outbreak of the persecu
tion under Diocletian, in 303, though probably threatened by
Aurelian just before his death in 275. The church had come
out of the struggle stronger than ever before.
SECTION XI. THE CONSTITUTIONAL DEVELOPMENT OF
THE CHURCH
The effect of the struggle with Gnosticism and Montanism
upon the development of the bishoprics as centres of unity,
witnesses to apostolical tradition, and bearers of an apostolical
succession, has already been seen (Section IV) . The tendencies
then developed continued to work in increasing power, with
the result that, between 200 and 260, the church as an or
ganization took on most of the constitutional features which
were to characterize it throughout the period of the dominance
of Grseco-Roman culture. Above all, this development was
manifested in the increase of the power of the bishops. The
circumstances of the time, the contests with Gnostics and
Montanists, the leadership of increasing masses of ignorant
recent converts from heathenism, the necessities of uniformity
in worship and discipline, all tended to centralize in the bishop
the rights and authority which, in the first half of the second
century had been the possession of the Christian congregation
as a whole. The "gifts of the Spirit," which had been very
real to the thought of Christians of the apostolic and sub-
88 GROWING POWER OF THE BISHOPS
apostolic ages, and which might be possessed by any one, were
now a tradition rather than a vital reality. The contest with
Montanism, among other causes, had led such claims to be re
garded with suspicion. The tradition, however, remained,
but it was rapidly changing into a theory of official endowment.
These "gifts" were now the official possession of the clergy,
especially of the bishops. The bishops were the divinely ap
pointed guardians of the deposit of the faith, and therefore
those who could determine what was heresy. They were the
leaders of worship — a matter of constantly increasing impor
tance with the growing conviction, wide-spread by the beginning
of the third century, that the ministry is a priesthood. They
were the disciplinary officers of the congregation — though their
authority in this respect was not firmly fixed — able to say when
the sinner needed excommunication and when he showed suffi
cient repentance for restoration. As given full expression by
Cyprian of Carthage, about 250 (ante, p. 70), the foundation
of the church is the unity of the bishops.
The Christians of a particular city had been regarded, cer
tainly from the beginning of the second century, as constituting
a single community, whether meeting in one congregation or
many. As such they were under the guidance of a single bishop.
Ancient civilization was strongly urban in its political consti
tution. The adjacent country district looked to its neighbor
ing city. Christianity had been planted in the cities. By
efforts going out from them, congregations were formed in the
surrounding villages, which came at first into the city for their
worship j1 but as they grew larger must increasingly have met
by themselves. Planted by Christians from the cities, they
were under the oversight of the city bishop, whose immediate
field of superintendence was thus growing, by the third century,
into a diocese. In some rural portions of the East, notably
Syria and Asia Minor, where city influence was relatively weak,
country groups of congregations developed before the end of
the third century, headed by a rural bishop, a chorepiskopos
— XwpeTrio-KOTros — but this system was not of large growth, nor
were these country bishops deemed the equals in dignity of their
city brethren. The system did not spread to the West at this
time, though introduced there in the Middle Ages, only to prove
unsatisfactory.
1 Justin, Apology, 67 ; Ayer, p. 35.
CLERGY AND LAITY 89
To Cyprian, the episcopate was a unit, and each bishop a
representative of all its powers, on an equality with all other
bishops. Yet even in his time this theory was becoming im
practicable. The bishops of the great, politically influential
cities of the epipire were attaining a superiority in dignity over
others, which those of Rome even more than the rest were striv
ing to translate into a superiority of jurisdiction. Rome,
Alexandria, Antioch, Carthage, and Ephesus, with Jerusalem
by reason of religious sentiment, had an outstanding eminence,
and Rome most of all. Besides these greater posts, the bishop
of the capital city of each province was beginning to be looked
upon as having a certain superiority to those of lesser towns in
his region ; but the full development of the metropolitan dig
nity was not to come till the fourth century, and earlier in the
East than in the West.
By the beginning of the third century clergy were sharply
distinguished from laity. The technical use of the words Imikis
— X**/ct5 — and Ider^s — «X%>«9 — was a gradual development, as
was the distinction which they implied. The earliest Christian
employment of the former was by Clement of Rome.1 The lat
ter occurs in 1 Peter 53, in wholly untechnical usage. But /c\i)pos
and its Latin equivalent, ordo, were the common expressions for
the "orders" of magistrates and dignitaries of the Roman Em
pire. It is probably from such popular usage that they come
into Christian employment. The letter of the churches of
Lyons and Vienne, giving a description of the persecution of
177, spoke of the "order" of the martyrs — tc\r)pov.2 Tertullian
wrote of "clerical order" and "ecclesiastical orders." 3 By
his time the distinction had become practically fixed ; even if
Tertullian himself could recall, for purposes of argument, the
early doctrine of the priesthood of all believers,4 "are not even
we laics priests ? " 5
Admission to clerical office was by ordination, a rite which
certainly goes back to the earliest days of the church, at least
as a sign of the bestowal of charismatic gifts, or separation for
a special duty.6 The ordinary process of the choice of a
bishop by the middle of the third century was a nomination
1 93-97 ; in 1 Clem., 40. 2 Eusebius, Church History, 5 : I10.
3 Monogamy, 12. 4 Chastity, 7.
5 Compare 1 Peter 25; Rev. lfi.
6 Acts 66, 133; also 1 Tim. 414, 522; 2 Tim. I6.
90 MAJOR AND MINOR ORDERS
by the other clergy, especially the presbyters, of the city;
the approval of neighboring bishops, and ratification or elec
tion by the congregation.1 Ordination followed at the hands
of at least one already a bishop — a number of episcopal ordain-
ers which had become fixed at a normal minimum of three by
the end of the third century. The control of the choice of the
presbyters, deacons, and lower clergy lay in the hand of their
local bishop, by whom they were ordained.2 The presbyters
were the bishop's advisers. With his consent they adminis
tered the sacraments.3 They preached. As congregations
grew more numerous in a city, a presbyter would be placed in
immediate charge of each, and their importance thereby en
hanced, from its relative depression, immediately after the rise
of the monarchical episcopate. There was no fixed limit to
their number. The deacons were immediately responsible to
the bishop, and were his assistants in the care of the poor and
other financial concerns, in aiding in the worship and discipline.
They often stood in closer practical relations to him than the
presbyters. At Rome, the number of the deacons was seven,
in remembrance of Acts 65. When Bishop Fabian (236-250)
adopted the civil division of the city as its fourteen charity
districts, he appointed seven sub-deacons in addition to the
seven deacons, that the primitive number might not be sur
passed. Sub-deacons also existed in Carthage in the time of
Cyprian, and quite generally at a little later period. In many
parts of the church there was no fixed rule as to the number of
deacons.
Bishops, presbyters, and deacons constituted the major
orders. Below them there stood in the first half of the third
century, the minor orders. In the general absence of all sta
tistical information as to the early church, a letter of Bishop
Cornelius of Rome, written about 251, is of high value as
showing conditions in that important church. Under the single
bishop in Rome there were forty-six presbyters and seven
deacons. Below them, constituting what were soon to be
known as the minor orders, were seven sub-deacons, forty-two
acolytes, and fifty-two exorcists, readers, and janitors.4 More
1 Cyprian, Letters, 51-558, 66-6S2, 67*. 5.
2 Ibid., 23-29, 33-S95, 34-40,
3 Tertullian, Baptism, 17 ; Ayer, p. 167.
4 Eusebius, Church History, 6 : 4311.
THE LESSER CLERGY 91
than fifteen hundred dependents were supported by the church,
which may have included thirty thousand adherents. Some
of these offices were of very ancient origin. Those of readers
and exorcists had originally been regarded as charismatic.
Exorcists continued to be so viewed in the Orient, and were
not there prc/perly officers. By the time of Cyprian the read
er's office was thought a preparatory step toward that of pres
byter .* The exorcist's task was to drive out evil spirits, in
whose prevalent working the age firmly believed. Of the
duties of acolytes little is known save that they were assistants
in service and aid. They were not to be found in the Orient.
The janitors were especially important when it became the
custom to admit none but the baptized to the more sacred
parts of the service. In the East, though not in the West,
deaconesses were to be found who were reckoned in a certain
sense as of the clergy. Their origin was probably charismatic
and was of high antiquity.2 Their tasks were those of care for
women, especially the ill. Besides these deaconesses there were
to be found in the churches, both East and West, a class known
as "widows," whose origin was likewise ancient.3 Their duties
were prayer and aid to the sick, especially of their own sex.
They were held in high honor, though hardly to be reckoned
properly as of the " clergy." All these were supported, in whole
or in part, by the gifts of the congregation, which were of large
amount, both of eatables and of money.4 These gifts were
looked upon, by the time of Cyprian, as "tithes," and were all
at the disposal of the bishop.5 By the middle of the third cen
tury the higher clergy were expected to give their whole time
to the work of the ministry;6 yet even bishops sometimes shared
in secular business, not always of a commendable character.
The lower clergy could still engage in trades. It is evident,
however, that though the ancient doctrine of the priesthood
of all believers might still occasionally be remembered, it had a
purely theoretical value. In practical Christian life the clergy,
by the middle of the third century were a distinct, close-knit
spiritual rank, on whom the laity were religiously dependent,
and who were in turn supported by laymen's gifts.
1 Letters, 335. 2 Romans 161. 3 1 Tim. 59- 10.
4 Teaching, 13 ; Justin, Apology, 67 ; Tertullian, Apology, 39 ; Ayer, pp.
35, 41.
6 Letters, 65-11. 6 Cyprian, Lapsed, 6.
92 PUBLIC WORSHIP
SECTION XII. PUBLIC WORSHIP AND SACRED SEASONS
Already, by the time of Justin (153), the primitive division
of worship into two assemblies, one for prayer and instruction
and the other for the Lord's Supper in connection with a com
mon meal had ceased. The Lord's Supper was now the crown
ing act of the service of worship and edification.1 Its separa
tion from the common meal was now complete. The course of
development during the succeeding century was determined
by the prevalence of ideas drawn from the mystery religions.
There is no adequate ground to believe that there was inten
tional imitation. Christians of the last half of the second and
the third centuries lived in an atmosphere highly charged with
influences sprung from these faiths. It was but natural that
they should look upon their own worship from the same point
of view. It is probable that already existing tendencies in
this direction were strongly reinforced by the great growth of
the church by conversion from heathenism in the first half of
the third century.
The church came to be more and more regarded as possessed
of life-giving mysteries, under the superintendence and dis
pensation of the clergy. Inquirers were prepared for initiation
by instruction — the catechumens. Such preparation, in some
degree, had existed from the apostolic days. It was now sys
tematized. Origen taught in an already celebrated school in
Alexandria in 203. Cyprian shows that in Carthage, by about
250, such instruction was in charge of an officer designated by
the bishop.2 Instruction was followed by the great initiatory
rite of baptism (see Section XIII), which granted admission to
the propitiatory sacrifice of the life-giving mystery of the Lord's
Supper (see Section XIV). As in the time of Justin, the other
elements of worship consisted of Scripture reading, preaching,
prayers, and hymns. These were open to all honest inquirers.
The analogy of the mystery religions barred all but those
initiate or about to be initiate from presence at baptism or the
Lord's Supper, and led to a constant augmentation of the
valuation placed on these rites as the most sacred elements of
worship. Whether the custom had arisen by the third century
of regarding these sacraments as a secret discipline, in which
the exact words of the Creed and of the Lord's Prayer were for
1 Justin, Apology, 67 ; Ay or, p. 35. 2 Letters, 23-29.
SACRED SEASONS 93
the first time imparted to the baptized, and of which no men
tion was to be made to the profane, is uncertain. Such usages
were wide-spread in the fourth and fifth centuries. Already in
the third the forces were at work which were to lead to the
practices.
Sunday was the chief occasion of worship, yet services were
beginning to be held on week-days as well. Wednesday and
Friday, as earlier (ante, p. 43), were days of fasting. The great
event of the year was the Easter season. The period immedi
ately before was one of fasting in commemoration of Christ's
sufferings. Customs differed in various parts of the empire.
In Rome a forty hours' fast and vigil was held in remembrance
of Christ's rest in the grave. This was extended, by the time
of the Council of Nicsea (325) to a forty days Lent. All fasting
ended with the dawn of Easter morning, and the Pentecostal
period of rejoicing then began. In that time there was no
fasting, or kneeling in prayer in public worship.1 Easter eve
was the favorite season for baptism, that the newly initiate
might participate in the Easter joy. Beside these fixed seasons,
the martyrs were commemorated with celebration of the Lord's
Supper annually on the days of their deaths.2 Prayers for the
dead in general, and their remembrance by offerings on the
anniversaries of their decease, were in use by the early part of
the third century.3 Relics of martyrs had been held in high
veneration since the middle of the second century.4 The full
development of saint-worship had not yet come; but the
church was honoring with peculiar devotion the memory of
the athletes of the Christian race who had not counted their
lives dear unto themselves.
SECTION XIII. BAPTISM
Baptism is older than Christianity. The rite gave to John,
the "Forerunner," his name. He baptized Jesus. His dis
ciples and those of Jesus baptized, though Jesus Himself did
not.5 The origin of the rite is uncertain ; but it was probably
1 Tertullian, Corona, 3.
- Letter of the Church of Smyrna on Martyrdom of Polycarp, 18 ; Cyprian,
Letters, 33-393; 36-122.
3 Tertullian, Corona, 3 ; Monogamy, 10.
4 Letter of Smyrna, as cited, 18.
5 John 322, 41- 2. «
94 . DOCTRINE REGARDING BAPTISM
a spiritualization of the old Levitical washings. Jewish teaching,
traceable probably to a period as early as the time of Christ,
required proselytes to the Hebrew faith not merely to be cir
cumcised, but to be baptized.1 It seems probable that John
did not invent the rite, and simply used contemporary practice.
It was a fitting symbol of the spiritual purification that fol
lowed the repentance that he preached. The mystery religions
had equivalent rites (ante, p. 10) ; but so purely Jewish was
that primitive Christianity to which baptism belongs, that it
is inconceivable that they should have had any effect on the
origin of the practice, though they were profoundly to influence
its development on Gentile soil. Peter represents baptism as
the rite of admission to the church, and to the reception of the
Holy Spirit.2 As the sacrament of admission baptism al
ways stood till the religious divisions of post-Reformation
days. It so stands for the vast majority of Christians at
present.
With Paul, baptism was not merely the symbol of cleansing
from sin,3 it involved a new relation to Christ,4 and a participa
tion in His death and resurrection.5 Though Paul apparently
did not think baptism essential to salvation6 his view approached
that of the initiations of the mystery religions and his con
verts in Corinth, at least, held an almost magical conception
of the rite, being baptized in behalf of their dead friends,
that the departed might be benefited thereby.7 Baptism soon
came to be regarded as indispensable. The writer of the
fourth Gospel represented Christ as declaring : " Verily, I say
unto thee, except a man be born of water and the Spirit, he
cannot enter the Kingdom of God." 8 The appendix to Mark
pictured the risen Christ as saying : " He that believeth and is
baptized shall be saved."9 This conviction but deepened. To
Hernias (115-140), baptism was the very foundation of the
church, which "is builded upon waters." 10 Even to the phil
osophical Justin (153) baptism effected "regeneration" and
"illumination." n In Tertullian's estimate it conveyed eternal
life itself.12
1 See Schiirer, Geschichte des Judischen Volkes, 2569-573.
2 Acts 23" ; see also 2" ; 1 Cor. 1213. 3 1 Cor. 611. 4 Gal 32«. 27.
6 Romans 64 ; Col. 212. 6 1 Cor. I14-17. 7 1 Cor. 1529.
8 John 35. 9 Mark 1616. 10 Vis., 33.
11 Apology, 61 ; Ayer, p. 33. 12 Baptism, 1.
BAPTISMAL REGENERATION: INFANT BAPTISM 95
By the time of Hermas1 and of Justin2 the view was general
that baptism washed away all previous sins. As in the mystery
religions it had become the great rite of purification, initiation,
and rebirth into the eternal life. Hence it could be received
but once. The only substitute was martyrdom, " which stands
in lieu of the* fontal bathing, when that has not been received,
and restores it when lost."3 With the early disciples generally
baptism was "in the name of Jesus Christ." 4 There is no
mention of baptism in the name of the Trinity in the New
Testament, except in the command attributed to Christ in
Matt. 2819. That text is early, however. It underlies the
Apostles' Creed, and the practice recorded in the Teaching ,5
and by Justin.6 The Christian leaders of the third century re
tained the recognition of the earlier form, and, in Rome at least,
baptism in the name of Christ was deemed valid, if irregular,
certainly from the time of Bishop Stephen (254-257). 7
Regarding persons baptized, the strong probability is that,
till past the middle of the second century, they were those only
of years of discretion. The first mention of infant baptism, and
an obscure one, was about 185, by Irenaeus.8 Tertullian spoke
distinctly of the practice, but discouraged it as so serious a step
that delay of baptism was desirable till character was formed.
Hence he doubted its wisdom for the unmarried.9 Less earnest
men than Tertullian felt that it was unwise to use so great an
agency of pardon till one's record of sins was practically made
up. A conspicuous instance, by no means solitary, was the
Emperor Constantine, who postponed his baptism till his
death-bed. To Origen infant baptism was an apostolic cus
tom.10 Cyprian favored its earliest possible reception.11 Why
infant baptism arose there is no certain evidence. Cyprian,
in the letter just cited, argued in its favor from the doctrine of
original sin. Yet the older general opinion seems to have held
to the innocency of childhood.12 More probable explanations
are the feeling that outside the church there is no salvation,
and the words attributed to Christ in John 35. Christian par-
1 Man., 43. 2 Apology, 61. 3 Tertullian, Baptism, 16.
4 Acts 238 ; see also 816, 1048, 196 ; Romans 63 ; Gal. 327.
6 Teaching, 7 ; Ayer, p. 38. 6 Apology, 61 ; Ayer, p. 33.
7 Cyprian, Letters, 73-746. 8 Heresies, 2 : 22 4.
9 Baptism, 18. 10 Com. on Romans, 5.
11 Letters, 5S-646. u Tertullian, Baptism, 18.
96 MODE OF BAPTISM
ents would not have their children fail of entering the Kingdom
of God. Infant baptism did not, however, become universal
till the sixth century, largely through the feeling already noted
in Tertullian, that so cleansing a sacrament should not be
lightly used.
As to the method of baptism, it is probable that the original
form was by immersion, complete or partial. That is implied
in Romans 64 and Colossians 212. Pictures in the catacombs
would seem to indicate that the submersion was not always
complete. The fullest early evidence is that of the Teaching:
" Baptize in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the
Holy Spirit in living [running] water. But if thou hast not
living water, then baptize in other water ; and if thou art not
able in cold, then in warm. But if thou hast neither, then
pour water upon the head thrice in the name of the Father and
of the Son and of the Holy Spirit."1 Affusion was, therefore,
a recognized form of baptism. Cyprian cordially upheld it.2
Immersion continued the prevailing practice till the late
Middle Ages in the West; in the East it so remains. The
Teaching and Justin show that fasting and an expression of
belief, together with an agreement to live the Christian life
were necessary prerequisites. By the time of Tertullian an
elaborate ritual had developed. The ceremony began with the
formal renunciation by the candidate of the devil and all his
works. Then followed the threefold immersion. On coming
from the fount the newly baptized tasted a mixture of milk
and honey, in symbolism of his condition as a new-born babe
in Christ. To that succeeded anointing with oil and the
laying on of the hands of the baptizer in token of the reception
of the Holy Spirit.3 Baptism and what was later known as
confirmation were thus combined. Tertullian also shows the
earliest now known existence of Christian sponsors, i. e., god
parents.4 The same customs of fasting and sponsors charac
terized the worship of Isis.
In the apostolic age baptism was, administered doubtless
not only by Apostles and other leaders, but widely by those
charismatically eminent in the church. By 110-117 Ignatius,
in the interest of unity, was urging, "it is not lawful apart
/
1 7 ; Ayer, p. 38. 2 Letters, 75-6912.
3 Tertullian, Baptism, 6-8 ; Corona, 3. 4 Baptism, 18.
VALID BAPTISM 97
from the bishop either to baptize or to hold a love-feast."1
In Tertullian's time, " of giving it, the chief priest, who is the
bishop, has the right; in the next place the presbyters and
deacons . . . besides these even laymen have the right, for
what is equally received can be equally given."2 In the Greek
and Roman Cfeurches baptism still continues the only sacrament
which any Christian, or indeed any seriously intending person,
can administer in case of necessity.
The middle of the third century saw a heated discussion over
the validity of heretical baptism. Tertullian had regarded it
as worthless;3 and his was undoubtedly the prevalent opinion
of his time. After the Novatian schism (see p. 102) Bishop
Stephen of Rome (254-257) advanced the claim that baptism,
even by heretics, was effectual if done in proper form. His
motives seem to have been partly the growing feeling that
sacraments are of value in themselves, irrespective of the char
acter of the administrant, and partly a desire to facilitate the
return of the followers of Novatian. This interpretation was
energetically resisted by Cyprian of Carthage, and Firmilian
of Caesarea in Cappadocia,4 and led to certain important asser
tions of the authority of the Roman bishop. The deaths of
Stephen and Cyprian gave a pause to the dispute; but the
Roman view grew into general acceptance in the West. The
East reached no such unanimity of judgment.
SECTION XIV. THE LORD'S SUPPER
Some account has been given of the early development of
the doctrine of the Lord's Supper (ante, pp. 23, 40). It has
been seen that "breaking of bread," in connection with a com
mon meal, was a Christian practice from the beginning. From
the time of Paul, certainly, it was believed to be by command
of Christ Himself, and in peculiar remembrance of Him and of
His death. Outside the New Testament three writers refer
to the Lord's Supper before the age of Irenseus. Of these the
account in the Teaching? reflects the most primitive Christian
conditions. It provides a simple liturgy of gratitude. Thou
"didst bestow upon us spiritual food and drink and eternal life
1 Smyrna,, 8 ; Ayer, p. 42. 2 Baptism, 17 ; Ayer, p. 167.
3 Baptism, 15. « Cyprian, Letters, 09-76.
5 9-11; Ayer, p. 38.
98 CHRIST'S PRESENCE IN THE SUPPER
through Thy Son." From Christ come "life and knowledge."
A more mystical explanation of the Supper, however, began
early. John 647'58 teaches the necessity of eating the flesh and
drinking the blood of Christ to have "life." To Ignatius the
Supper "is the medicine of immortality, and the antidote that
we should not die but live forever." l Justin affirmed, "for
not as common bread and common drink do we receive these ;
but in like manner as Jesus Christ our Saviour, having been
made flesh by the Word of God, had both flesh and blood for
our salvation, so likewise have we been taught that the food
which is blessed by the prayer of His Word, and from which
our blood and flesh by transmutation are nourished, is the flesh
and blood of that Jesus who was made flesh." 2 By Justin's
time (153) the Lord's Supper was already separated from the
common meal. Irenseus continued and developed the thought
of the fourth Gospel and of Ignatius that the Supper confers
"life." "For as the bread, which is produced from the earth,
when it receives the invocation of God, is no longer common
bread but the Eucharist, consisting of two realities, earthly and
heavenly ; so also our bodies, when they receive the Eucharist,
are no longer corruptible, having the hope of the resurrec
tion to eternity." 3 In how far these conceptions were due
to the mystery religions, with their teaching that sharing a
meal with the god is to become a partaker of the divine nature,
is difficult to decide; but they undoubtedly grew out of the
same habit of thought. It may be said that, by the middle
of the second century, the conception of a real presence of Christ
in the Supper was wide-spread. It was stronger in the West
than in the East, but ultimately it won its way also there.
In early Christian thought not only were believers them
selves "a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God," 4 but all
actions of worship were sacrificial. The leaders of the church
"offered the gifts of the bishop's office." 5 All its membership
could "do good and communicate," "for with such sacrifices
God is well pleased."6 In particular, the Lord's Supper was
a " sacrifice," 7 and this feeling was doubtless strengthened by
the circumstance that it was the occasion of the gifts of the
1 Eph., 20. 2 Apology, 66 ; Ayer, p. 34.
3 Heresies, 4 : 185 ; Ayer, pp. 138, 139. 4 Romans 121.
5 1 Clem., 44; Ayer, p. 37. 6 Heb. 1316.
7 Teaching, 14 ; Ayer, p. 41.
THE SUPPER A SACRIFICE 99
congregation for those in need.1 As late a writer as Irenseus,
while viewing the Lord's Supper as pre-eminently a "sacrifice,"
still held that all Christian actions are also of a sacrificial
character.2 Christianity, however, was in a world where sacri
ficial conceptions of a much more definite nature were familiar
in the religions on every hand. Sacrifice demands a priest.
With Tertullian the term sacerdos first comes into full use.3
With Cyprian the developed doctrine of the Lord's Supper
as a sacrifice offered to God by a priest has been fully reached.
"For if Jesus Christ, our Lord and God, is Himself the chief
priest of God the Father, and has first offered Himself a sacri
fice to the Father, and has commanded this to be done in com
memoration of Himself, certainly that priest truly discharges
the office of Christ, who imitates that which Christ did ; and
he then offers a true and full sacrifice in the church when he
proceeds to offer it according to what he sees Christ Himself
to have offered." 4 The business of the Christian priest is
"to serve the altar and to celebrate the divine sacrifices."5
Already by Tertullian's time the Lord's Supper was held in
commemoration of the dead.6 Cyprian shows such "sacri
fices" for martyrs.7 The sense of the life-giving quality of
the Supper led, also, to the custom of infant communion, of
which Cyprian is a witness.8 Here, as in the doctrine of
Christ's physical presence, the conception of the Supper as a
sacrifice to God was earlier in the West than in the East. It
did not become general in the Orient much before 300. With
it the "Catholic" conception of the Supper was evident as
(a) a sacrament in which Christ is really present (the how of
that presence was not to be much discussed till the Middle
Ages), and in which the believer partakes of Christ, being
thereby brought into union with Him and built up to the im
mortal life ; and (b) a sacrifice offered to God by a priest and
inclining God to be gracious to the living and the dead. Much
was still left obscure, but the essentials of the "Catholic" view
were already at hand by 253.
1 Justin, Apology, 67; Ayer, p. 35. 2 Heresies, 4 : 175, IS3.
3 Baptism, 17 ; Ayer, p. 167. * Letters, 62-6314.
6 Ibid., 671. 6 Chastity, 11.
7 Letters, 33-S93. 8 Lapsed, 25.
100 WHAT SINS CAN BE FORGIVEN
SECTION XV. FORGIVENESS OF SINS
The general view of early Christianity was that " if we con
fess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our
sins." l But there were sins so bad that they could not be for
given, they were "unto death."2 Just what this "sin unto
death" might be, was uncertain. It was one opinion that it
was rejection of the Holy Spirit. Mark represents Christ as
saying : " Whosoever shall blaspheme against the Holy Spirit
hath never forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin" (329).
The Teaching held that "any prophet speaking in the Spirit,
ye shall not try neither discern; for every sin shall be for
given, but this sin shall not be forgiven."3 The general feel
ing was, however, that the unforgivable sins were idolatry or
denial of the faith, murder, and gross licentiousness. The
first-named was specially hopeless. No severer denunciations
can be found in the New Testament than those directed by the
writer of Hebrews toward such as "crucify to themselves the
Son of God afresh" (64'8, 1026'31). To Tertullian the "deadly
sins" were seven, "idolatry, blasphemy, murder, adultery,
fornication, false-witness and fraud." 4
While, by the time of Hermas (115-140), baptism was re
garded as cleansing all previous sins, those committed after it,
of the class just described, were "deadly." But the tendency
was toward some modification of this strictffc^s. The burden
of Hermas was that, by exception, in view of the near end of
the world, one further repentance had been granted after bap
tism.5 This extended even to adultery.6 Yet church prac
tice was elsewhere milder, in the second century, than church
theory. Irenaeus gives an account of the reclaiming of an
adulteress, who "spent her whole time in the exercise of public
confession." 7 In Tertullian's time the feeling was that there
was one repentance possible for deadly sins after baptism —
"a second reserve of aid against hell"- - "now once for all,
because now for the second time, but never more." 8 Restora
tion was to be, if at all, only after a humiliating public confes
sion, an "exomologesis," "to feed prayers on fastings, to groan,
to weep and make outcries unto the Lord your God ; to bow
1 1 John I9. 2 Ibid., 516. 3 11 ; Ayer, p. 40.
4 Against Marcion, 49. 5 Man., 43 ; Ayer, pp. 43, 44.
6 Ibid., 41. 7 Heresies, 1 : 135. 8 Repentance, 7, 12.
PEXAXCE AND RESTORATION 101
before the feet of the presbyters, and kneel to God's dear
ones." l Yet practice was far from universally as rigorous as
Tertullian would imply.
The question inevitably arose as to when a sinner had done
enough to be restored. The feeling appeared early that the
absolving pdwer was divinely lodged in the congregation.2
This authority was also regarded as directly committed to
Peter,; and, by implication, to church officers, when such devel
oped.3 But, curiously, a double practice prevailed. About to
be martyrs and confessors, i. e,, those who endured tortures
or imprisonment for their faith, were deemed also able to ab
solve because filled with the Spirit.4 This twofold authority
led to abuse. Many of the confessors were lax. Cyprian, in
particular, had trouble on this score.5 Naturally bishops tried
to repress this right of confessors ; but it remained a popular
opinion till the cessation of persecution. Absolution ultimately
raised the question of a scale of penance, a standard as to when
enough had been done to justify forgiveness, but that develop
ment is beyond the limits of the present period. It is not to
be found till about 300.
These restorations, which were particularly of the licentious,6
were deemed exceptional, however common ; and it came as
a shock, at least to a rigid Montanist ascetic like Tertullian,
when the aggressive Roman bishop, Kallistos (217-222), (ante,
p. 75), who had himself been a confessor, issued a declaration
in his own name, which is a landmark in the development of
papal authority, that he would absolve sins of the flesh on a
proper repentance.7 This was an official breach in the popular
list of "sins unto death," whatever actual breach earlier prac
tice may have made.
In common judgment, denial of the faith was the worst of
these offenses, and not even Kallistos had promised pardon
for that. The question was raised on a tremendous scale by
the Decian persecution. Thousands lapsed and sought res
toration after the storm was over. In Rome, Bishop Fabian
died a martyr in 250. The Roman Church was rent on the
question of their treatment. A dispute beginning in personal
antipathies, not at first involving the lapsed, resulted in the
1 Repentance, 9. 2 Matt. 1815-1S. 3 Ibid., 1G1*. 19.
4 Tertullian, Modesty, 22. 6 Letters, 17-20, 20-21, 21-22, 22-27.
6 Tertullian, Modesty, 22. ' Tertullian, Modesty, 1.
102 ALL SINS MAY BE FORGIVEN
choice by the majority of Cornelius, a comparative nobody, as
bishop over Novatian, the most distinguished theologian in
Rome (ante, p. 75). The minority supported Novatian. The
majority soon advocated the milder treatment of the lapsed,
while Novatian advanced to the rigorist position. Novatian
began a schism that lasted till the seventh century, and
founded protesting churches wide-spread in the empire. He
renewed the older practice and denied restoration to all guilty
of "sins unto death." His was a lost cause. Synods in Rome
and Carthage in 251 and 253, representative of the majority,
permitted the restoration of the lapsed, under strict conditions
of penance. Though the question was to arise again in the
persecution under Diocletian, which began in 303,1 and though
varied practice long continued in different parts of the church,
the decision in Rome in 251 was ultimately regulative. All sins
were thereby forgivable. The old distinction continued in name,
but it was henceforth only between great sins and small.
SECTION XVI. THE COMPOSITION OF THE CHURCH AND
THE HIGHER AND LOWER MORALITY
In apostolic times the church was undoubtedly conceived
as composed exclusively of experiential Christians.2 There
were bad men who needed discipline in it,3 but Paul could paint
an ideal picture of the church as "not having spot or wrinkle
or any such thing." 4 It was natural that this should be so.
Christianity came as a new faith. Those who embraced it
did so as a result of personal conviction, and at the cost of no
little sacrifice. It was long the feeling that the church is a
community of saved men and women. Even then, it was true
that many were unworthy. This is Hermas's complaint. The
oldest sermon outside the New Testament has a modern sound.
" For the Gentiles when they hear from our mouth the oracles
of God, marvel at them for their beauty and greatness ; then,
when they discover that our works are not worthy of the words
which we speak, forthwith they betake themselves to blasphemy,
saying that it is an idle story and a delusion." 5 Yet, in spite
of the recognition of these facts the theory continued. But the
1 The Melitian schism, Donatists.
2 Romans I7; 1 Cor. 1*; 2 Cor. I1; Col. I2.
3 E. g., I Cor. 51-13. 4 Eph. 527. 6 2 Clem., 13.
THE NATURE OF THE CHURCH 103
increasing age of Christianity forced a change of view. By
the beginning of the third century there were many whose
parents, possibly remoter ancestors, had been experiential
Christians, but who, though they attended public worship,
were Christians in little more than in name. What were they ?
They did no^ worship with the heathen. The public regarded
them as Christians. Some of them had been baptized in in
fancy/ Had the church a place for them? Their numbers
were such that the church was compelled to feel that it had.
Its own conception of itself was altering from that of a com
munion of saints to that of an agency for salvation. This
change was evident in the teaching of Bishop Kallistos of Rome
(217-222). He cited the parable of the tares and the wheat,1
and compared the church to the ark of Noah in which were
"things clean and unclean." The earlier and later theories
thus indicated divide the allegiance of modern Christendom
to this day.
The rejection of the Montanists and the decay of the expec
tation of the speedy end of the world undoubtedly greatly fa
vored the spread of worldliness in the church — a tendency much
increased by its rapid growth from heathen converts between
202 and 250. As common Christian practice became less
strenuous, however, asceticism grew as the ideal of the more
serious. Too much must not be expected of common Chris
tians. The Teaching, in the .first half of the second century,
had exhorted : "If thou art able to bear the whole yoke of the
Lord, thou shalt be perfect ; but if thou art not able, do that
which thou art able" (6). Hermas (115-140) had taught that
a man could do more than God commanded, and would receive
a proportionate reward.3 These tendencies but increased.
They were, however, greatly furthered by a distinction be
tween the "advice" and the requirements of the Gospel, which
was clearly drawn by Tertullian4 and Origen.5
While the requirements of Christianity are binding on all
Christians, the advice is for those who would live the holier life.
On two main phases of conduct the Gospel was thought to
give such counsels of perfection. Christ said to the rich young
man: "If thou wouldest be perfect, go, sell that thou hast,
and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven." 6
1 Matt. 1324-30. 2 Hippolytus, Refutation, 97. 3 Sim., 52- 3.
4 To his Wife, 2l. 5 Com. on Romans, 33. 6 Matt. 1921.
104 HIGHER AND LOWER MORALITY
He also declared that some are "eunuchs for the kingdom of
heaven's sake," and that, "in the resurrection they neither
marry nor are given in marriage, but are as angels."1 Paul
said "to the unmarried and to widows, it is good for them
if they abide even as I." Voluntary poverty and voluntary
celibacy were, therefore, deemed advice impossible of fulfil
ment by all Christians, indeed, but conferring special merit
on those who practised them. About these two conceptions
all early Christian asceticism centred, and they were to be the
foundation stones of monasticism when that system arose at
the close of the third century. As the clergy should set a
specially good example, not only was second marriage discour
aged from the sub-apostolic age;3 but, by the beginning of the
third century, marriage after entering on office was deemed
unallowable.4 The life of celibacy, poverty, and contempla
tive retirement from the activities of the world was admired
as the Christian ideal, and was widely practised, though as yet
without separation from society. The road to full monasticism
had been fairly entered. Probably the most unfortunate as
pect of this double ideal was that it tended to discourage the
efforts of the ordinary Christian.
SECTION XVII. REST AND GROWTH, 260-303
The end of the period of persecution affected by the edict of
Gallienus, in 260, was followed by more than forty years of
practical peace. Legally, the church had no more protection
than before, and the able Emperor Aurelian (270-275) is said
to have intended a renewal of persecution when prevented by
death. Even with him it apparently did not come to the
proclamation of a new hostile edict. The chief feature of this
epoch was the rapid growth of Christianity. By 300 Christi-
anity was effectively represented in all parts of the empire.
Its distribution was very unequal, but it was influential in the
central provinces of political importance, in Asia Minor, Mace
donia, Syria, Egypt, northern Africa, central Italy, southern
Gaul and Spain. Nor was its upward progress in the social
1 Matt., 1912, 2230. 2 1 Cor. 78.
3 1 Tim. 32, see also Hermas, Man., 44, against second marriage of
Christians in general.
4 Hippolytus, Refutation, 97.
RAPID GROWTH OE THE CHURCH 105
scale less significant. During this period it won many officers
of government and imperial servants. Most important of all,
^it began now to penetrate the army on a considerable scale.
As late as 246-248 the best that Origen could say in reply to
Celsus's criticism that Christians failed of their duty to the
state by refusal of army service, was that Christians did a
better thing by praying for the success of the Emperor.1 Origen
also expresses and defends Christian unwillingness to assume
the burdens of governmental office.2 P>en then Christians had
long been found in the Roman armies;3 but Origen undoubt
edly voiced prevalent Christian feeling in the middle of the
third century. By its end both Christian feeling and practice
had largely changed.
This period of rapid growth was one of greatly increasing
conformity to worldly influences also. How far this sometimes
went a single illustration may show. The Council of Elvira,
now Granada, in Spain (c. 313), provided that Christians who
as magistrates wore the garments of heathen priesthood could
be restored after two years' penance, provided they had not
actually sacrificed or paid for sacrifice.4
As compared with the first half of the third century, its
latter portion was a period of little literary productivity or
theologic originality in Christian circles. No names of the
first rank appeared. The most eminent was that of Dionysius,
who held the bishopric of Alexandria (247-264), a pupil of Origen
and like him for a time head of the famous catechetical school.
Through his writings the influence of Origen was extended,
and the great theologian's thoughts were in general dominant
in that period in the East. Dionysius combated the wide
spread Eastern Sabellianism. He also began the practice of
sending letters to his clergy, notifying them of the date of
Easter — a custom soon largely developed by the greater bish
oprics, and made the vehicle of admonition, doctrinal defini
tion, and controversy. Beside the Sabellianism, which Dio
nysius combated, Dynamic Monarchianism was vigorously rep
resented in Antioch by Paul of Samosata till 272 (ante, p. 72).
This administratively gifted bishop held a high executive posi
tion under Zenobia, Queen of Palmyra, to whom Antioch be
longed for a period before her overthrow by the Emperor
1 Celsus, S73. 2 7&4/., 875.
3 E.g., Tertullian, Corona, 1.
v/
106 NEO-PLATONISM
Aurelian. Paul's opponents, being unable to deprive him of
possession of the church building, appealed to Aurelian, who
decided that it rightfully belonged to " those to whom the
bishops of Italy and of the city of Rome should adjudge it." 1
Doubtless Aurelian was moved by political considerations in
this adjudication, but this Christian reference to imperial au
thority, and the Emperor's deference to the judgment of Rome
were significant.
With Antioch of this period is to be associated the foundation
of a school of theology by Lucian, of whom little is known of
biographical detail, save that he was a presbyter, held aloof
from the party in Antioch which opposed and overcame Paul
of Samosata, taught there from c. 275 to c. 303, and died a
martyr's death in 312. Arius and Eusebius of Nicomedia were
his pupils, and the supposition is probable that his views were
largely reproduced in them. Like Origen, he busied himself
with textual and exegetical labors on the Scriptures, but had
little liking for the allegorizing methods of the great Alexan
drian. A simpler, more grammatical and historical method
of treatment both of text and doctrine characterized his teach
ing.
SECTION XVIII. KIVAL RELIGIOUS FORCES
The latter half of the third century was the period of the
greatest influence of Mithraism in the empire. As the Sol
Inoictus, Mithras was widely worshipped, and this cult was
popular in the army and favored by the Emperors who rose
from its ranks. Two other forces of importance arose in the
religious world. The first was Neo-Platonism. Founded in Al
exandria by Ammonius Saccas ( ?-c. 245), its real developer was
/Plotinus (205-270), who settled in Rome about 244. From him,
the leadership passed to Porphyry (233-304). Neo-Platonism
was a pantheistic, mystical interpretation of Platonic thoughts.
God is simple, absolute existence, all perfect, from whom the
lower existences come. From Him the Nous (wO?) emanates
like the Logos in the theology of Origen. From the Nous the
world-soul derives being, and from that individual souls. From
the world-soul the realm of matter comes. Yet each stage is
inferior in the amount of being it possesses to the one above —
1 Eusebius, Church History, 7 : 3019.
MANICH^EISM 107
has less of reality — reaching in gradations from God, who is
all-perfect, to matter which, as compared with Him, is nega
tive. The morals of Neo-Platonism, like those of later Greek
philosophy generally, were ascetic, and its conception of sal
vation was that of a rising of the soul to God in mystic con
templation, the end of which was union with the divine. Neo-
Platonism was much to influence Christian theology, notably
that ;of Augustine. Its founders were not conspicuously or
ganizers, however, and it remained a way of thinking for the
relatively few rather than an inclusive association of the many.
Far otherwise was it with a second movement, that of Mani-
chseism. Its founder, Mani, was born in Persia in 215 or 216,
began his preaching in Babylon in 242, and was crucified in
276 or 277. Strongly based on the old Persian dualism, Mani-
chseism was also exceedingly syncretistic. It received ele
ments from Zoroastrianism, Buddhism, Judaism, and Chris
tianity. Light and darkness, good and evil are eternally at
war. Its conception of the relations of spirit and matter, and
of salvation, in many ways resembled those of Gnosticism.
Man is essentially a material prison house of the realm of evil,
in which some portion of the realm of light is confined. Hence
salvation is based on right knowledge as to the nature of this
bondage, and desire to return to the realm of light, coupled
with extreme ascetic rejection of all that belongs to the sphere
of darkness, especially the physical appetites and desires. Its
worship was as simple as its asceticism was strict. Its member
ship was in two classes, the perfect, always relatively few, who
practised its full austerities ; and the hearers, who accepted its
teachings, but with much less strictness of practice — a distinc
tion not unlike that between monks and ordinary Christians
in the church. Its organization was fairly centralized and rigid.
In Manichseism Christianity had a real rival. It^^rfead was
rapid in the empire, and it absorbed not <>nly^fl|w the fol
lowers of Mithraism, but the remnants of 1 Ktian-Gnostic
sects, and other early heresies. Its great gr^o^Hfwas to be in
the fourth and fifth centuries, and its influencejwas to be felt
till the late Middle Ages through sects which were heirs of its
teachings, like the Cathari.
V
108 DIOCLETIAN STRENGTHENS THE EMPIRE
SECTION XIX. THE FINAL STRUGGLE
In 284 Diocletian became Roman Emperor. A man of the
humblest origin, probably of slave parentage, he had a dis
tinguished career in the army, and was raised to the imperial
dignity by his fellow soldiers. Though a soldier-emperor, he
was possessed of great abilities as a civil administrator, and
determined to reorganize the empire so as to provide more
adequate military defense, prevent army conspiracies aiming at
a change of Emperors, and render the internal administration
more efficient. To these ends he appointed an old companion-
in-arms, Maximian, regent of the West, in 285, with the title
of Augustus, which Diocletian himself bore. In further aid of
military efficiency he designated, in 293, two "Csesars" — one,
Constantius Chlorus, on the Rhine frontier, and the other,
Galerius, on that of the Danube. Each was to succeed ulti
mately to the higher post of "Augustus." All was held in har
monious working by the firm hand of Diocletian.
In internal affairs the changes of Diocletian were no less
sweeping. The surviving relics of the old republican empire,
and of senatorial influence, were now set aside. The Emperor
became an autocrat in the later Byzantine sense. A new divi
sion of provinces was effected; and Rome was practically aban
doned as the capital, Diocletian making the more conveniently
situated Nicomedia, in Asia Minor, his customary residence.
In character Diocletian was a rude but firm supporter of
heathenism of the cruder camp type.
To such a man of organizing abilities, the closely knit, hier
archically ordered church presented a serious political problem.
It must have seemed a state within the state over which he
had no control. Though there had never been a Christian up
rising against the empire, and Christianity had held aloof from
politics to a remarkable degree, the church was rapidly growing
in numbers anxLs.trength. Two courses lay open for a vigorous
ruler, either tjfforce it into submission and break its power, or
to enter into alliance with it and thus secure political control
of the growing organism. The latter was to be the method of
Constantine ; the former the attempt of Diocletian. No other
course could be expected from a man of his religious outlook.
The Eastern Caesar, Galerius, was even more hostile to Chris
tianity, and had much influence over Diocletian. To him the
PERSECUTION UNDER DIOCLETIAN 109
suggestions of persecution may have been clue. The growth of
Christianity, moreover, was uniting all the forces of threatened
heathenism against it; while Diocletian and Galerius were
disposed to emphasize emperor-worship and the service of the
old gods.
Diocletian 'moved slowly, however. A cautious effort to rid
the army and the imperial palace service of Christians was
followed, beginning in February, 303, by three great edicts of
persecution in rapid succession. Churches were ordered de
stroyed, sacred books confiscated, clergy imprisoned and forced
to sacrifice by torture. In 304 a fourth edict required all
Christians to offer sacrifices. It was a time of fearful persecu
tion. As in the days of Decius there were many martyrs, and
many who "lapsed." Popular feeling was, however, far less
hostile than in previous persecutions. The Christians had be
come better known. The severity of the persecution varied
with the attitude of the magistrates by whom its penalties were
enforced. Cruel in Italy, North Africa, and the Orient, the
friendly "Csesar," Constantius Chlorus, made apparent com
pliance in Gaul and Britain by destroying church edifices,
but left the Christians themselves unharmed. He thereby
gained a popularity with those thus spared that was to redound
to the advantage of his son. A
The voluntary retirement of Diocletian, and the enforced
abdication of his colleague, Maximian, in 305, removed the
strong hand of the only man able to master the complex gov
ernmental situation.)? Constantius Chlorus and Galerius now
became, "Augusti," but in the appointment of "Caesars," the
claims of the sons of Constantius Chlorus and Maximian were
passed over in favor of two proteges of Galerius, Severus and
Maximinus Daia. Persecution had now practically ceased in
the West. It continued in increased severity in the East.
Constantius Chlorus died in 306, and the garrison in York ac
claimed his son Constantine as Emperor. On the strength of
this army support, Constantine forced from Galerius his own
recognition as "Caesar," with charge of Gaul,_Spain, and Britain.
Soon after Maximian's son, Maxentiusr, "defeated Severus and
made himself master of Italy and North Africa. The next
trial of strength in the struggle for the empire TtcTvhich Con
stantine had set himself must be with Maxentius. Its out
come would determine the mastery oHhe whole West. Licin-
110 CONSTANTINE A CHRISTIAN
ius, a protege of Galerius, succeeded to a portion of the former
possessions of Severus.
Before the decisive contest for the West took place, however,
Galerius, in conjunction with Constantine and Licinius, issued
in April, 311, an edict of toleration to Christians "on condi
tion that nothing is done by them contrary to discipline." 1
This was, at best, a grudging concession, though why it was
granted at all by the persecuting Galerius, who was its main
source, is not wholly evident. Perhaps he had become con
vinced of the futility of persecution. Perhaps the long and
severe illness which was to cost him his life a few days later
may have led him to believe that some help might come from
the Christians' God. The latter supposition is given added
probability because the edict exhorts Christians to pray for
its authors.
The death of Galerius in May, 311, left four contestants for
the empire. Constantine and Licinius drew together by mu
tual interest; while Maximinus Daia and Maxentius were
united by similar bonds. Daia promptly renewed persecution
in Asia and Egypt. Maxentius, while not a persecutor, was a
pronounced partisan of heathenism. Christian sympathy
naturally flowed toward Constantine and Licinius. Constan
tine availed himself to the full of its advantages. To what
extent he was now a personal Christian it is impossible to say.
He had inherited a kindly feeling toward Christians. He had
joined in the edict of 311. His forces seemed scarcely adequate
for the great struggle with Maxentius. He doubtless desired
the aid of the Christians' God in the none too equal cgpflict —
though it is quite probable that he may not then have thought
of Him as the only God. Constan tine's later affirmation that
he saw a vision of the cross with the inscription, "in this sign
conquer," was a conscious or unconscious legend. But that he
invaded Italy, as in some sense a Christian, is a fact. A brilliant
march and several successful battles in northern Italy brought
him face to face with Maxentius at Saxa Rubra, a little to the
north of Rome, with the Mulvian bridge across the Tiber be
tween his foes and the city. There, on October 28, 312, occurred
one of the decisive struggles of history, in which Maxentius lost
the battle and his life. The West was Constantine's. The
Christian God, he believed, had given him the victory, and
1 Eusebius, Church History, 8 : 179 ; Ayer, p. 262.
EQUAL RIGHTS FOR CHRISTIANITY 111
every Christian impulse was confirmed. He was, thenceforth,
in all practical respects a Christian, even though heathen em
blems still appeared on coins, and he retained the title of
Pontifex Maximus.
Probably late in 312 Constantine and Licinius published in
Milan the great edict which gave complete freedom to Chris
tianity, though it has been preserved only in the form ad
dressed by Licinius to the Eastern officers.1 It was no longer,
as in"311, one of toleration; nor did it make Christianity the
religion of the empire. It proclaimed absolute freedom of
conscience, placed Christianity on a full legal equality with
any religion of the Roman world, and ordered the restoration
of all church property confiscated in the recent persecution.
A few months after the edict was issued, in April, 313, Licinius
decisively defeated the persecutor, Maximinus Daia, in a battle
not far from Adrianople, which seemed to the Christians a
second Mulvian bridge. Two Emperors wrere, however, one
too many. Licinius, defeated by Constantine in 314, held
scarcely more than a quarter of the empire. Estranged from
Constantine, the favor shown by the latter to Christianity
Licinius increasingly resented. His hostility grew to persecu
tion. It was, therefore, with immense satisfaction that the
Christians witnessed his final defeat in 323. Constantine was
at last sole ruler of the Roman world. The church was every
where free from persecution. Its steadfastness, its faith, and
its organization had carried it through its perils. But, in win
ning its freedom from its enemies, it had come largely under the
control of the occupant of the Roman imperial throne. A
f atef ul ninion with the state had begun.
1 Eusebius, Church History, 10 : 5 ; Ayer, p. 263.
PERIOD III. THE IMPERIAL STATE CHURCH
SECTION I. THE CHANGED SITUATION
To Constantine's essentially political mind Christianity was
^[the completion of the process of unification which had long
been in progress in the empire. It had one Emperor, one law,
and one citizenship for all free men. It should have one re
ligion. Constantine moved slowly, however. Though the
Christians were very unequally distributed and were much
more numerous in the East than in the West, they were but a
fraction of the population when the Edict of Milan granted
them equal rights. The church had grown with great rapidity
during the peace in the last half of the third century, tinder
imperial favor its increase was by leaps and bounds. That
favor Constantine promptly showed. By a law of 319 the
clergy were exempted from the public obligations that weighed
so heavily on the well-to-do portion of the population.1 In
321 the right to receive legacies was granted, and thereby the
privileges of the church as a corporation acknowledged.2 The
same year Sunday work was forbidden to the people of the
cities.3 In 319 private heathen sacrifices were prohibited.4
Gifts were made to clergy, and great churches erected in
Rome, Jerusalem, Bethlehem, and elsewhere under imperial
auspices. Above all, Constantine's formal transference of the
capital to the rebuilt Byzantium, which he called New Rome,
but which the world has named in his honor, Constantinople,
was of high significance. Undoubtedly political and defensive
in its motives, its religious consequences were far-reaching.
From its official foundation, in 330, it established the seat of
t empire in a city of few heathen traditions or influences, situated
in the most strongly Christianized portion of the world. It
left the bishop of Rome, moreover, the most conspicuous man
1 Codex Theodosianus, 16 : 22 ; Ayer, Source Book, p. 283.
*Ibid., 16 :24; Ayer, p. 283.
8 Codex Justinianus, 3 : 123 ; Ayer, p. 284.
4 Codex Theodosianus, 9 : 162 ; Ayer, p. 286.
112
CONSTANTINE'S POLICY 113
in the ancient capital, to which the Latin-speaking West still
looked with reverence — in a conspicuity which was the more
possible of future importance because it was wholly unintended
by Constantine, and was spiritual rather than political. Great
as were the favors which Constantine showed to the church,
they were only for that strong, close-knit, hierarchically organ
ized portion that called itself the "Catholic." The various
" heretical" sects, and they were still many, could look for no
boijnty from his hands..
If Christianity was to be a uniting factor in the empire, the
church must be one. Constantine found that unity seriously
threatened. In North Africa the persecution under Diocletian
had led to a schism, somewhat complicated and personal in its
causes, but resembling that of Novatian in Rome, half a century
earlier (ante, p. 102). The church there was divided. The strict
party charged that the new bishop of Carthage, Caecilian, had re
ceived ordination in 311, from the hands of one in mortal sin,
who had surrendered copies of the Scriptures in the recent per
secution. That ordination it held invalid, and chose a counter-
bishop, Majorinus. His successor, in 316, was the able Donatus
the Great, from whom the schismatics received the name, Don
atists. In 313 Constantine made grants of money to the
"Catholic" clergy of North Africa.1 In these the Donatists did
not share, and appealed to the Emperor. A synod held in Rome
the same year decided against them, but the quarrel was only
the more embittered. Constantine thereupon mapped out what
was to be henceforth the imperial policy in ecclesiastical ques-
/tions. He summoned a synod of his portion of the empire to
v meet, at public expense, in Aries, in southern Gaul. The church
I itself should decide the controversy, but under imperial con
trol. Here a large council assembled in 314. The Donatist
contentions were condemned. Ordination was declared valid
even at the hands of a personally unworthy cleric. Heretical
baptism was recognized, and the Roman date of Easter ap
proved.2 The Donatists appealed to the Emperor, who once
more decided against them, in 316; and as they refused to yield,
now proceeded to close their churches and banish their bishops.
The unenviable spectacle of the persecution of Christians by
Christians was exhibited. North Africa was in turmoil. Con-
^usebius, Church History, 10: 6; Ayer, p. 281.
2 See Ay or, p. 291.
_,
114 ARIANISM
stantine was, however, dissatisfied with the results, and in 321
abandoned the use of force against these schismatics. They
grew rapidly, claiming to be the only true church possessed of
a clergy free from "deadly sins" and of the only valid sacra
ments. Not till the Mohammedan conquest did the Donatists
disappear.
SECTION II. THE ARIAN CONTROVERSY TO THE DEATH
OF CONSTANTINE
A much more serious danger to the unity of the church than
the Donatist schism which Constantine encountered was the
great Arian controversy. It has already been pointed out
that while the West, thanks to the work of Tertullian and No-
^vatian, had reached practical unanimity regarding the unity
of substance between Christ and the Father (ante, pp. 69-76),
the East was divided. Origen, still its most dominating the
ological influence, could be quoted in opposing senses. If he
had taught the eternal generation of the Son, he had also held
Him to be a second God and a creature (ante, p. 81). Adop-
tionist tendencies persisted, also, about Antioch; while Sabel-
lianism was to be found in Egypt. The East, moreover, was
vastly more interested in speculative theology than the West,
and therefore more prone to discussion ; nor can there be any
doubt that, in the fourth century, much more of intellectual
ability was to be found in the Greek-speaking than in the
Latin-speaking portion of the empire.
The real cause of the struggle was these varying interpreta
tions; but the actual controversy began in Alexandria, about
320, in a dispute between Arius and his bishop, Alexander
(312?-328). Arius, a pupil of Lucian of Antioch (ante, p. 106),
was presbyter in charge of the church known as Baucalis.
He was advanced in years and held in high repute as a preacher
of learning, ability, and piety. Monarchian influences im-
^bibed in Antioch led him to emphasize the unity and self-
contained existence of God. In so far as he was a follower of
Origen, he represented the great Alexandrian's teaching that
Christ was a created being. As such He was not of the sub
stance of God, but was made like other creatures of "nothing."
Though the first-born of creatures, and the agent in fashion
ing the world, He was not eternal. "The Son has a beginning,
ARIANISM 115
but . . . God is without beginning." x Christ was, indeed,
God in a certain sense to Arius, but a lower God, in no way
one with the Father in essence or eternity. In the incarnation,
this Logos entered a human body, taking the place of the human
reasoning spirit. To Arius's thinking, Christ was neither fully
God nor fully man, but a tertium quid between. This is what ,
makes his view wholly unsatisfactory.
Bishop Alexander was influenced by the other side of Origen's
teaching.' To him the Son was eternal, like in essence to the
Father, and wholly uncreated.2 His view was, perhaps, not
perfectly clear, but its unlikeness to that of Arius is apparent.
Controversy arose between Arius and Alexander, apparently
on Arius's initiative. It soon grew bitter, and about 320 or
321 Alexander held a synod in Alexandria by which Arius and
a number of his sympathizers were condemned. Arius appealed
for help to his fellow pupil of the school of Lucian, the power- •
ful bishop, Eusebius of Nicomedia, and soon found a refuge
with him. Alexander wrote widely to fellow bishops, and Arius
defended his own position, aided by Eusebius. The Eastern
ecclesiastical world was widely turmoiled.
Such was the situation when Constantine's victory over
Licinius made him master of the East as well as of the West.
The quarrel threatened the unity of the church which he
deemed essential. Constantine therefore sent his chief ecclesi
astical adviser, Bishop Hosius of Cordova, in Spain, to Alex
andria with an imperial letter, counselling peace and describing
the issue involved as "an unprofitable question."3 The well-
meant, but bungling effort was vain. Constantine, therefore,
proceeded to employ the same device he had already made
use of at Aries in the Donatist dispute. He called a council
of the entire church. That of Aries had been representative
of all the portion of the empire then ruled by Constantine.
Constantine was now master of all the empire, and therefore
bishops of all the empire were summoned. The principle was
the same, but the extent of Constantine's enlarged jurisdiction
made the gathering in Nicsea the First General Council of the
church.
The council, which assembled in Nicsea in May, 325, has
V
1 Arius to Eusebius, Theodoret, Church History, I4; Ayer, p. 302.
2 Letter of Alexander, in Socrates, Church History, I6.
3 Letter in Eusebius, Life of Constantine, 264-72.
116 THE COUNCIL OF NIC/EA
always lived in Christian tradition as the most important in
the history of the church. Tii it the bishops were^-summo»ed
at government expense, accompanied by lower clerg}^ who did
not, however, have votes in its decisions. The East had the
vast preponderance OLalxaiLthlgcJiundred bishops present
nnly sfy wprp from theJWest. It included three parlies. A
'* small section, led by EusebTus of Nicomedja. werej:horough-
going Arians. Another small group were equally strenuous
supporters of Alexander.^ The large majority, of whpm the
church historian t^Eusebius^Cgesarea, was a^eader, were
deeply versed in the question at issue. Indeed, the majority,
as a whole, were described by an unsympathetic writer as
"simpletons."1 As far as they had any opinion, they stood
on the general basis of the teachings of Origen. Conspicuous
in jJTp_a.sspTnhly was the .EiDj^Tcu'_JiiiTisplfJ who, though not
baptized, and therefore not technically a full member of the
church, was far too eminent a personage not to be welcomed
enthusiastically.
Almost at. thf^beginnijig of the council s\. crppH prpqpnfpd by
tlia.Aj:iajnji_wa^rejected. Fjispbiij^ of Cflpsarea, then offered the
creed of his own cKufch.
dating fromnBeTore the controversy, and was, therefore, wholly
indefinite as to the particular problems involved. This Csesa-
rean creed was now amended most significantly by the insertion
of the expressions, "<hfigoltfin, not made," " of one essence
(homoousion, opoovaLov) with^ JheJFather " ; and by the specific
rejection of Arian formulae such as "there was when He was
not" and "He was made of things that were not." The later
technically unlike words essence, substance (oiKr/a), and hypos-
tasis (uTToo-rao-t?) were here used as equivalent expressions.
Loofs has shown conclusively2 that the influences which secured
these changes were Western, doubtless above all that of Hosius
of Cordova, supported by the Emperor. In particular, the test
word, homoousion, had long been orthodox in its Latin equiva
lent, and had been in philosophic usage in the second century,
though rejected by a synod in Antioch in the proceedings
against Paul of Samosata (ante, p. 73). Indeed, it was used
very sparingly by Athanasius himself in his earlier defense of
the Nicene faith. Tj i^ ^asy to understand Constantine's atti-
1 Socrates, Church History, I8.
2 Realencyklopcidiv fur prot. Theol u. Kirche, 214- 15.
THE COUNCIL OF NIC.EA 117
.tilde. Essentially a politi44fHvJ^-Tmtwft41y t^ight a. forrrjuja,
that would Jind _no opposition in theJWestern half of the em-
pirc, and would receive the support of a portion of the 44*^t,
more acceptable than one which, while having only a part of
the East in its favb7"woulor be rejected by
'
To. Cons_taaitin£.'s influence thp n^Qpfinn nf the Nirene defini-
tion was due. That he ever understood its shades of meaning
is more than doubtful ; but he wanted a united expression of the
faith of the church on the question in dispute, and believed that
he had found it. UiideF-his-supervisieft, all but two of the
bishops present signed 4t. These, and Arius. Constantine sent
into banishment. 'Flic imperial politics had apparently se.-.
cured-tEe unity-ef^fee-eht^ebj^aRd had gtven-4t what it had
never before possessed, a^sJiatppient. whirh might, be assumed
to be a universally recognized creed.
Besides this action in thus formulating the creed, the Coun
cil j)f_Nicgea issued a pnmh^r of important ran on s rpgmlfl.t.jnff
church discipline^ paved the way for the return of thosejn Egypt
who had joined the Melitian schism over the treatment of the
lapsed, made easy the readmission of Novatians, and ordered
a uniform date in the observation of Easter.
It is not strange, in view of the manner in which the Nicene
creed was adopted, that soon after the council ended ,great
pppositiojn to its testjvojT[1Jtmy^7/.9?!onf was manifested in the
if, w«-«j nf coufs^f ftbnoxnns.
They were fewr. To the large middle party of disciples of Ongen
it was scarcely less satisfactory, for to them it seemed Sabel-
lian. Though Eusebius of Nicomedia and his Arian sympa
thizer, Theognis of Nicsea, had signed, their evident hostility
was such that Constantine sent both bishops into exile. By
328, however, they were home again, possibly through the
favor of the Emperor's sister, Constantia. Eusebius. soon ac
quired a greater influence over Constantine than any other
ecclesiastic of the East, and used it to favor the cause of Arius.
With such elements of opposition to the Nicene result, the real
battle was not in the council but in the more than half a cen
tury which followed its conclusion.
Meanwhile the great defend^ nf thn Nirenp fa^^ had come
fully on the scene. Athanasiiis was born in Alexandria about
295. In the early stafgs^of the Arian rnntrnvprsy: hft wns n
deacon, and served asfmTvjLte secretary to Bishop Alexander.
118 ATHANASIUS
As such he accompanied his bishop to Nicsea, and on Alexander's
death, in 328, was chosen in turn to the Alexandrian bishopric
— a post which he was to hold, in spite of attack and five ban
ishments, till his own demise in 373. Not a great speculative
theologian, Athanasius was a great character. In an age
when court favor counted for much, he stood like a rock for his
convictions, and that the Nicene theology ultimately conquered
was primarily due to him, for the Nicene West possessed no
able theologian. Tp_Jiiiii>_JJie.._questioij._ at_jssue was one of
salvation, and that he made men feel it to be so was a main
source of his power. The Greek conception of salvation had
been, since the beginnings of the tradition of Asia Minor, the
transformation of sinful mortality into divine and blessed im
mortality — the impartation of "life" (ante, p. 40). Only by
real Godhead coming into union with full manhood in Christ
could the transformation of the human into the divine be ac
complished in Him, or be mediated by Him to His disciples.
As Athanasius said : " He [Christ] was made man that we
might be made divine."1 Tojiis thinking the__gi£at. error, of
/ Ariam'.sm was that-Jt-gaYe. mTbasis for a real salvation. Well
was it for the Nicene party that~so ^ moderately eTttetefmined,
a champion stood for it, since the two other prominent de
fenders of the Nicene faith, Bishops Marcellus of Ancyra and
Eustathius of Antioch, were certainly far from theologically
impeccable, and were accused, not wholly rightly, of opinions
decidedly Sabellian.
Eusebius of Nicomedia soon saw in Athanasius the real en
emy. Constahtine would not desert the Nicene decision, but
the same practical result could be achieved, Eusebius thought,
by striking its defenders. Political and'theological differences
were cleverly used to secure the condemnation of Eustathius in
330. The Eusebians determined to secure the discomfiture of
Athanasius and the restoration of Arius. The latter, who had
returned from banishment even before Eusebius, now presented
to Constantine a creed carefully indefinite on the question at is
sue.2 To Constantine's untheological mind this seemed a satis
factory retraction, and an expression of willingness to make his
peace. He directed Athanasius to restore Arius to his place
in Alexandria. Athanasius refused. Charges of overbearing
1 Incarnation, 543.
2 Socrates, Church History, I26 ; Ayer, p. 307.
THE ARIAN REACTION 119
and disloyal conduct were brought against Athanasius. Con-
stantine was finally persuaded that the main obstacle in the
path of peace was Athanasius's stubbornness. The bishops
assembled for the dedication of Constantine's just completed
church in Jerusalem, met in Tyre, and then in Jerusalem,
under Eusebian influences, and decided in favor of Arius's
restoration in 335, and near the end of the year Constantine
banished Athanasius to Gaul. Shortly after the same forces
procured the deposition of Marcellus of Ancyra for heresy.
The leading defenders of the Nicene creed being thus struck
down, the Eusebians planned the restoration of Arius himself
to church fellowship; but on the evening before the formal
ceremony should take place Arius suddenly died (336). An
aged man, the excitement may well have been fatal.
The Nicene faith seemed thus not officially overthrown, but
practically undermined, when Constantine died on May 22,
337. Shortly before his demise he was baptized at the hands
of Eusebius of Nicomedia. The changes which his life had
witnessed, and he had largely wrought, in the status of the
church were enormous ; but they were not by any means wholly
advantageous. If persecution had ceased, and numbers were
rapidly growing under imperial favor, doctrinal discussions
that earlier would have run their course were now political
v /questions of the first magnitude, and the Emperor had assumed
* a power in ecclesiastical affairs which was ominous for the
future of the church. Yet in the existing constitution of the
Roman Empire such results were probably inevitable, once the
Emperor himself should become, like Constantine, an adherent
of the Christian faith.]"
SECTION III. CONTROVERSY UNDER CONSTANTINE'S SONS
The death of Constantine was succeeded by the division of
the empire among his three sons, with some intended provi
sions for other relatives that were frustrated by a palace in
trigue and massacre. Constantine II, the eldest, received
Britain, Gaul, and Spain ; Constantius, Asia Minor, Syria, and
Egypt; while the intermediate portion came to the youngest,
Constans. Constantine II died in 340, so that the empire was
speedily divided between Constans in the West, and Constan
tius in the East. Both Emperors showed themselves, from the
120 THE ARIAN REACTION
first, more partisan in religious questions than their father had
been. A joint edict of 346 ordered temples closed, and for
bade sacrifice on pain of death.1 The law was, however, but
slightly enforced. The Donatist controversy in North Africa
had greatly extended, and that land, in consequence, was the
scene of much agrarian and social agitation. The Donatists
were, therefore, attacked in force by Constans, and though
not wholly crushed, were largely rooted out.
The most important relationship of the sons of Constantine
to the religious questions of the age was to the continuing
Nicene controversy. Under their rule it extended from a
dispute practically involving only the East, as under Constan-i
tine, to an empire- wide contest. At the beginning of their1'
joint reigns the Emperors permitted the exiled bishops to re
turn. Athanasius was, therefore, once more in Alexandria be
fore the close of 337. Eusebius was, however, still the most
influential party leader in the East, and his authority was but
strengthened when he was promoted, in 339, from the bishopric
of Nicomedia to that of Constantinople, where he died about
341. Through the influence of Eusebius Athanasius was forci
bly driven from Alexandria in the spring of 339, and an Arian
bishop, Gregory of Cappadocia, put in his place by military
power. Athanasius fled to Rome, where Marcellus of Ancyra
soon joined him.
East and West were now under different Emperors, and
Constans held to the Nicene sympathies of his subjects. Not
merely was the empire divided, but Bishop Julius of Rome
could now interfere from beyond the reach of Constantius.
He welcomed the fugitives and summoned their opponents to
a synod in Rome, in 340, though tfye Eusebians did not appear.
The synod declared Athanasius and Marcellus unjustly deposed.
The Eastern leaders replied not merely with protests against
the Roman action, but with an attempt to do away with the
Nicene formula itself, in wrhich they had the support of Con
stantius. Two synods in Antioch, in 341, adopted creeds,
far, indeed, from positively Arian in \expression, but from which
all that was definitely Nicene was (knitted. In some respects
they represented a pre-Nicene orthoooxy. The death of Eu
sebius, now of Constantinople, at thi^ juncture cost the oppo
nents of the Nicene decision his able leadership. The two
1 Codex Theodosianus, 16 : 104 ; Ayer, p. 323.
THE COUNCIL OF' SARDICA 121
brother Emperors thought that the bitter quarrel could best
be adjusted by a new General Council, and accordingly such a
body gathered in Sardica, the modern Sofia, in the autumn of
343.' General Council it was not to be. The Eastern bishops,
finding themselves outnumbered by those of the West, and
seeing Athanasius and Marcellus in company with them, with
drew. By the Westerners Athanasius and Marcellus were
once more approved, though the latter was a considerable bur
den to their cause by reason of his dubious orthodoxy. East
and West seemed on the point of ecclesiastical separation.^
The Council of Sardica had completely failed in its object
of healing the quarrel, but the Westerners there assembled
passed several canons, under the leadership of Hosius of Cor
dova, that are of great importance in the development of the
judicial authority of the bishop of Rome. What they did was
to enact the actual recent course of proceedings regarding
Athanasius and Marcellus into a general rule. It was decided
that in case a bishop was deposed, as these had been, he might
appeal to Bishop Julius of Rome, who could cause the case to
be retried by new judges, and no successor should be appointed,/
till the decision of Rome was known.1 They were purely
Western rules and seem to have aroused little attention, even
in Rome, at the time, but were important for the future.
The two imperial brothers were convinced that the contro
versy was assuming too serious aspects. At all events, Con-
stans favored Athanasius, and the rival bishop, Gregory, having
died, Constantius permitted Athanasius to return to Alexandria
in October, 347, where he was most cordially welcomed by the
overwhelming majority of the population, which had always
heartily supported him. The situation seemed favorable for
Athanasius, but political events suddenly made it worse than
it had ever been. A rival Emperor arose in the West in the
person of Magnentius, and in 350 Constans was murdered.
Three years of struggle brought victory over the usurper to
Constantius, and left him sole ruler of the empire (353).
Constantius, at last in full control, determined to end the
controversy. To his thinking Athanasius was the chief enemy.
The leadership against Athanasius was now in the hands of
Bishops Ursacius of Singidunum, and Valens of Mursa. At
synods held in Aries in 353, and in Milan in 355, Constantius
1 See Ayer, pp. 364-366.
122 THE HOMOION FORMULA
forced the Western bishops to abandon Athanasius, and to
resume communion with his Eastern opponents. For resis
tance to these demands Liberius, bishop of Rome, Hilary of Poi
tiers, the most learned bishop of Gaul, and the aged Hosius of
Cordova were sent into banishment. Athanasius, driven from
Alexandria by military force in February, 356, began his third
exile, finding refuge for the next six years largely among the
Egyptian monks. At a synod held in Sirmium, the Emperor's
residence, in 357, ousia (substance) in any of its combinations
was forbidden as unscriptural.1 This, so far as the influence of
the synod went, was an abolition of the Nicene formula. Hosius
signed it, though he absolutely refused to condemn Athanasius.
The declaration of Sirmium was strengthened by an agreement
secured by Constantius at the little Thracian town of Nice, in
359, in which it was affirmed "we call the Son like the Father,
as the holy scriptures call Him and teach." 2 The Emperor
and his episcopal favorites, notably Valens of Mursa, now se
cured its acceptance by synods purporting to represent East
and West, held in Rimini, Seleucia, and Constantinople. The
Old-Nicene formula was set aside, and the whole church had,
theoretically, accepted the new result. The proper term, the
only one allowed in court circles, was "the Son is like the
Father" — homoios — hence those who supported its use were
known as the Homoion ("like") party. Apparently colorless,
the history of its adoption made it a rejection of the Nicene
faith, and opened the door to Arian assertions. The Arians had
triumphed for the time being, and that success was largely aided
by the fact that its Homoion formula appealed to many who
were heartily tired of the long controversy.
Really, however, the Arian victory had prepared the way
for the ruin of Arianism, though that result was not immedi
ately apparent. The opposition to the Nicene formula had
always been composed of two elements: a small Arian sec
tion, arid a much larger conservative body, which stood mainly
on positions reached by Origen, to which Arianism was ob
noxious, but which looked upon homoousios, the Nicene phrase,
as an unwarranted expression already condemned in Antioch,
and of Sabellian ill-repute. Both elements had worked together
to resist the Nicene formula, but their agreement went no
further. Extreme Arians were raising their heads in Alexandria
1 Hilary of Poitiers, De Synodis, 11 ; Ayer, p. 317. 2 Ayer, p. 319.
A MIDDLE PARTY 123
and elsewhere. The conservatives were even more hostile to
them than to the Nicene party. They would not say homoousios
— of one substance — but they were willing to say homoiousios
— not in the sense of like substance, as the natural translation
would be, but of equality of attributes. They were also begin
ning to draw a distinction between ousia — substance, es
sence — and hypostasis — now using the latter in the sense
of " subsistence/' instead of making them equivalent, as in the
Nicene symbol. This enabled them to preserve the Origen-
istic teaching of "three hypostases," while insisting on the
community of attributes. The newly formed middle party
came first into evidence with a synod at Ancyra, in 358, and
its chief early leaders were Bishops Basil of Ancyra, and
George of Laodicea. They have usually been called the Semi-
Arians, but the term is a misnomer. They rejected Arianism
energetically. They really stood near to Athanasius. He
recognized this approach, and Hilary of Poitiers furthered
union by urging that the conservatives meant by homoiousios
what the Nicene party understood by homoousios.1 The ulti
mate Nicene victory was to come about through the fusion of
the Nicene and the "Semi-Arian" parties. In that union the
tradition of Asia Minor, and the interpretations of Origen were
to combine with those of Alexandria. It was a slow process,
however, and in its development the earlier Nicene views were
to be considerably modified into the New-Nicene theology.
SECTION IV. THE LATER NICENE STRUGGLE
Constantius died in 361 as he was preparing to resist his
cousin, Julian, whom the soldiers in Paris had declared Emperor.
His death left the Roman world to Julian. Spared on account
of his youth at the massacre of his father and other relatives
on the death of Constantine, he looked upon Constantius as
his father's murderer. Brought up in peril of his life, and
forced to strict outward churchly observance, he came to hate
everything which Constantius represented, and was filled with
admiration for the literature, life, and philosophy of the older
Hellenism. He was not an " apostate," in the sense of a turn
coat. Though necessarily concealed from the public, his heath
enism had long been real, when his campaign against Constan-
1 De Synodis, 88 ; Ayer, p. 319.
124 ATHANASIUS'S GROWING STRENGTH
tius enabled him publicly to declare it. It was heathenism of
a mystical, philosophical character. On his accession he at
tempted a heathen revival. Christianity was everywhere
discouraged, and Christians removed from office. Bishops
banished under Constantius were recalled, that the quarrels of
Christians might aid in the heathen reaction. Athanasius
was thus once more in Alexandria in 362, but before the year
was out was exiled for the fourth time by Julian, who was
angered by his success in making converts from heathenism.
Julian's reign was soon over. In 363 he lost his life in a cam
paign against the Persians. In him Rome had its last heathen
Emperor.
The reign of Julian showed the real weakness of the Arian-
izing elements which Constantius had supported. Athanasians
and Semi-Arians drew together. Furthermore, the Nicene
debate was broadening out to include a discussion of the re-
v/lations of the Holy Spirit to the Godhead. Since the time of
Tertullian, in the West, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit had been
regarded as three "persons," of one substance (ante, p. 69).
The East had reached no such unanimity. Even Origen had
been uncertain whether the Spirit was " created or uncreated,"
or "a son of God or not." l There had not been much discus
sion of the theme. Now that it had come forward, the homoousia
of the Holy Spirit with the Father, seemed to Athanasius and
his friends a corollary from the homoousia of the Son. At a
synod held in Alexandria in 362, by the just returned Athana
sius, terms of union were drawn up for rival parties in Antioch.
It would be sufficient "to anathematize the Arian heresy and
confess the faith confessed by the holy Fathers at Nicsea, and
to anathematize also those who say that the Holy Ghost is a
creature and separate from the essence of Christ." 2 The em
ployment of the terms "three hypostases" and "one hypos-
tasis" the synod regarded as indifferent, provided "three"
was not used in the sense of "alien in essence," and "one" in
that of Sabellian unity. The door was thus opened by Atha
nasius himself not only for the full definition of the doctrine of
the Trinity, but for the New-Nicene orthodoxy, with its God
head in one essence (substance) and three hypostases.
The death of Julian was succeeded by the brief reign of
1 De Principiis, Preface.
2 Tomus admAntiochenos, 3 ; Ayer, p. 350.
THE GREAT CAPPADOCIANS 125
Jovian. The empire had once more a Christian ruler, and
happily, one who interfered little in ecclesiastical politics.
Athanasius promptly returned from his fourth exile. Jovian's
rule ended in 364, and he was succeeded by Valentinian I (364-
375), who, finding the imperial defense too great a task, took
charge of the West, giving to his brother, Valens (364-378)
the sovereignty of the East. Valentian interfered little with
churchly affairs. Valens came under the influence of the
Arian clergy of Constantinople, and both Homoousian and
Homoiousian sympathizers shared his dislike — a situation which
helped to bring these parties nearer together. He condemned
Athanasius to a fifth and final exile, in 365 ; but it was brief,
and the aged bishop did not have to go far from the city.
Valens was, however, no such vigorous supporter of Arianism
as Constantius had been. Athanasius died in Alexandria, in
373, full of years and honors.
At the death of Athanasius the leadership in the struggle
was passing into the hands of new men, of the New-Nicene
party. Chief of these were the three great Cappadocians,
Basil of CaBsarea in Cappadocia, Gregory of Nazianzus, and
Gregory of Nyssa. Born of a prominent Cappadocian family
about 330, Basil received the best training that Constanti
nople and Athens could yield, in student association with his
life-long friend Gregory of Nazianzus. About 357 he yielded
to the ascetic Christian tendencies of the age, and gave up any
idea of a career of worldly advancement, living practically as a
monk. He visited Egypt, then the home of the rising monas
tic movement, and became the great propagator of monasti-
cism in Asia Minor. He was, however, made for affairs and not
for the cloister. Deeply versed in Origen, and in sympathy
with the Homoiousian party, he belonged to the section which
gradually came into fellowship with Athanasius, and like Ath-
Jknasius he supported the full consubstantiality of the Holy
Spirit. To the wing of the Homoiousian party which refused
to regard the Spirit as fully God — the so-called Macedonians —
he offered strenuous opposition. It was a far-reaching vic
tory for his cause when Basil became bishop of the Cappa
docian Csesarea, in 37(L. The post gave him ecclesiastical au
thority over a large section of eastern Asia Minor, which he
used to the full till his early death, in 379, to advance the
New-Nicene cause. He sought also to promote a good under-
126 THE GREAT CAPPADOCIANS
standing between the opponents of Arianism in the East and
the leaders of the West.
Gregory of Nyssa was Basil's younger brother. An orator
of ability, and a writer of even greater skill and theological
clearness than Basil, he had not Basil's organizing and ad
ministrative gifts. His title was derived from the little Cappa-
docian town — Nyssa — of which he became bishop in 371 or
372. He lived till after 394, and ranks among the four great
Fathers of the Oriental Church.
Gregory of Nazianzus (329?-389?) had his title from the
town of his birth, where his father was bishop. Warmly be
friended with Basil from student days, like Basil he felt strongly
the monastic attraction. His ability as a preacher was greater
than that of either of his associates, but was exercised in most
varying stations. As a priest he aided his father, from about
361. By Basil he was made bishop of the village of Sasima.
About 378 he went to Constantinople to oppose the Arianism
which was the faith of the vast majority of its inhabitants.
The accession of the zealously Nicene Emperor, Theodosius,
in 379, gave him the needed support, and he preached with
such success that he gained the repute of having turned the
city to the Nicene faith. By Theodosius he was made bishop
of Constantinople in 381. But the frictions of party strife
and the inclination to ascetic retirement which had several
times before driven him from the world, caused him speedily
to relinquish this most exalted ecclesiastical post. As a writer
he ranked with Gregory of Nyssa. Like him he is reckoned
one of the Eastern Fathers, and the later Orient has given him
the title, the "Theologian."
To the three Cappadocians, more than to any others, the
intellectual victory of the New-Nicene faith was due. To the
men of that age their work seemed the triumph of the Nicene
formula. What modifications they really made have been well
expressed by a recent German writer i1
Athanasius (and Marcellus) taught the one God, leading a
threefold personal life, who reveals Himself as such. The Cappa-
docians think of three divine hypostases, which, as they manifest
the same activity, are recognized as possessing one nature and the
same dignity. The mystery for the former lay in the trinity; for
1 Seeberg, Text-Book of the History of Doctrines, Eng. tr., 1 : 232.
THE NEW-NICENE ORTHODOXY 127
the latter, in the unity. . . . The Cappadocians interpreted the
doctrine of Athanasius in accordance with the conceptions and
underlying principles of the Logos-Christology of Origen. They
paid, however, for their achievement a high price, the magnitude
of which they did not realize — the idea of the personal God.
Three personalities and an abstract, impersonal essence, are the
resultant.
The original Nicene success and the temporary triumph of
Arianism had been made possible by imperial interference.
The same force was to give victory to the New-Nicene ortho
doxy. The death of Valens in the great Roman defeat by the
West Goths, near Adrianople, in 378, left his nephew, Gratian,
the sole surviving ruler. Gratian preferred the care of the
West, and wisely appointed as Emperor for the East an able
general and administrator, Theodosius, who became ultimately,
for a brief period, the last sole ruler of the Roman Empire.
Born in Spain, he grew up in full sympathy with the theology
of the West, and shared to the utmost its devotion to the Nicene
faith. In 380, in conjunction with Gratian, he issued an edict
that all should "hold the faith which the holy Apostle Peter
gave to the Romans," which he defined more particularly as
that taught by the existing bishops, Damasus of Rome, and
Peter of Alexandria.1 This edict constitutes a reckoning point
in imperial politics and ecclesiastical development. Hence
forth there was to be but one religion in the empire, and that
the Christian. Moreover, only that form of Christianity was
to exist which taught one divine essence in three hypostases,
or, as the West would express it in supposedly similar terms,
one substance in three persons.
In 381 Theodosius held an Eastern synod in Constantinople,
which ultimately gained repute as the Second General Council,
and obtained an undeserved credit as the supposed author of
the creed which passed into general use as "Nicene." Of its
work little is known. It undoubtedly rejected, however, that
wing of the Homoiousian party — the Macedonian — which re
fused to accept the consubstantiality of the Holy Spirit, and
approved the original Nicene creed. Personal differences con
tinued between East and West, and between Eastern parties ;
but the forcible way in which the Emperor now drove out the
1 Codex Theodosianus, 16l ; Ayer, p. 367.
128 THE NEW-NICENE TRIUMPH
Arians decided the fate of Arianism in the empire, in spite of a
brief toleration of Arianism in northern Italy by Gratian's suc
cessor, Valentinian II, influenced by his mother, against which
Ambrose of Milan had to strive. Here, too, the authority of
Theodosius was potent after her death, about 388. Arianism
in the empire was a lost cause, though it was to continue for
several centuries among the Germanic invaders, thanks to the
missionary work of Ulfila (see Section V).
Yet even when the synod of 381 met, the Nicene creed, as
adopted in 325, failed to satisfy the requirements of theologic
development in the victorious party. It said nothing regard
ing the[consubstantiality of the Holy Spirit,\for instance. A
creed more fully meeting the state of discussion was desirable,
and actually such a creed came into use, and by 451 was re
garded as adopted by the General Council of 381. It ulti
mately took the place of the genuine Nicene creed, and is that
known as the "Nicene" to this day. Its exact origin is un
certain, but it is closely related to the baptismal creed of
Jerusalem, as reconstructible from the teaching of Cyril,
afterward bishop of that city, about 348 ; and also to that of
Epiphanius of Salami s, about 374.1
On reviewing this long controversy, it may be said that it
was a misfortune that a less disputed phrase was not adopted
at Nicsea, and doubly a misfortune that imperial interference
played so large a part" in the ensuing discussions. In the strug-
gle the imperial church came into existence, and a policy of im
perial interference was fully developed. Departure from official
orthodoxy had become a crime.
Theodosius's attitude was no less strenuous toward remain
ing heathenism than in regard to heretical Christian parties.
In 392 he forbade heathen worship under penalties similar to
those for lese-majesty and sacrilege.2 It was the old weapon
of heathenism against Christianity now used by Christian
hands against heathenism. Constantine's toleration had fully
disappeared. Nevertheless, heathen worship persisted, and
only slowly died out.
1 Ayer, Source Book, pp. 354-356.
2 Codex Theodosianus, 16l°. 12 ; Ayer, p. 347.
THE GERMANIC TRIBES 129
SECTION V. A1UAN MISSIONS AND THE GERMANIC INVASIONS
Throughout the history of the empire the defense of the
frontiers of the Rhine and the Danube against the Teutonic
peoples beyond had been an important military problem.
Under Marcu^ Aurelius a desperate, but ultimately successful
war had been waged by the Romans on the upper Danube
(167-180). Considerable shifting of tribes and formations of
confederacies took place behind the screen of the Roman fron
tier; but by the beginning of the third century the group
known as the Alemans had formed across the upper Rhine,
and half a century later, that of the Franks on the lower right
side of that river. Between these two developments, about
230-240, the Goths completed their settlement in what is now
southern Russia. In 250 and 251 the Roman hold in the Bal
kans was seriously threatened by a Gothic invasion, in which
the persecuting Emperor, Decius, lost his life. The Goths
effected a settlement in the region north of the lower Danube.
They invaded the empire, and the peril was not stayed till the
victories of Claudius (269), from which he derived his title,
"Gothicus." The stronger Emperors, Aurelian, Diocletian,
and Constantine, held the frontiers of the Rhine and the
Danube effectively ; but the danger of invasion was always
present. By the fourth century the Goths north of the Danube,
who were most in contact with Roman civilization of any of
the Germanic tribes, were known as the Visigoths, while their
kinsmen in southern Russia were called Ostrogoths. The exact
meaning of these names is uncertain, though they are generally
regarded as signifying West and East Goths.
There was, indeed, much interchange between Romans and
Germans, especially from the time of Aurelian onward. Ger
mans served, in increasing numbers, in the Roman armies.
Roman traders penetrated far beyond the borders of the em
pire. Germans settled in the border provinces and adopted
Roman ways. Prisoners of war, taken probably in the raid
of 264, from Cappadocia, had introduced the germs of Chris
tianity among the Visigoths before the close of the third cen
tury, and even a rudimentary church organization in certain
places. The Visigoths, as a nation, had not been converted.
4 To that work Ulfila was to contribute. Born about 310, of
parentage sprung, in part at least, from the captives just men-
130 THE WORK OF ULFILA
tioned, he was of Christian origin, and became a "reader" in
the services of the little Christian Gothic circle. In 341 he ac
companied a Gothic embassy, and was ordained bishop by the
Arian Eusebius of Nicomedia, then bishop of Constantinople,
whether in the latter city, or in Antioch where the synod (ante,
p. 120) was then sitting, is uncertain. His theology, which
seems to have been very simple, was thenceforth anti-Nicene,
and after the formation of the Homoiousian party he was to be
reckoned one of its adherents. For the next seven years he
labored in his native land, till persecution compelled him and
his fellow Christians to seek refuge on Roman soil, living and
laboring for many years near the modern Plevna, in Bulgaria.
His great work was the translation of the Scriptures, or at least
of the New Testament, into the Gothic tongue. In 383 he died
on a visit to Constantinople. Unfortunately, the complete
oblivion into which these Arian labors fell, owing to their un
orthodox character in the view of the following age, allows no
knowledge of Ulfila's associates, nor a judgment as to how far
the credit of turning the Visigoths to Christianity belonged to
him, or to the Gothic chieftain Fritigern, about 370.
But, however brought about, the Visigoths, in spite of heathen
persecution, rapidly accepted Arian Christianity. Not only
'they, but their neighbors the Ostrogoths, the Vandals in part,
and remoter Germanic tribes,, such as the Burgundians and
Lombards, had embraced the Arian faith before invading the
empire. Indeed, so widely had Christianity penetrated that
it seems not improbable that, had the invasions been a couple of
generations delayed, all might have entered the empire as
Christians. As it was, those tribes only which were the far
thest removed from the influences going out from the Visigoths
— those of northwestern Germany, of whom the chief were
the Franks and the Saxons — remained overwhelmingly heathen
at the time x>f the invasions. Such rapid extension of Chris
tianity shows that the hold of native paganism must have been
slight, and that many, whose names have utterly perished,
shared in the work of conversion. It was of the utmost sig
nificance that when the walls of the empire were broken the
Germans came, for the most part, not as enemies of Chris
tianity. Had the Western empire fallen, as well it might, a
century before, the story of Christianity might have been vastly
different.
THE GERMAN INVASIONS 131
Pressed by an invasion of Huns from western Central Asia,
the Visigoths sought shelter across the frontier of the lower
Danube in 376. Angered by ill-treatment from Roman offi
cials, they crossed the Balkans and annihilated the Roman army
near Adrianople, in 378, in a battle in which the Emperor Valens
lost his life, f The strong hand of Theodosius (379-395) re
strained their further attacks; but on his death the empire,
divide^ between his son of eighteen, Arcadius, in the East, and
his eleven-year-old son, Honorius, in the West, was no longer
able to resist the attack. Under Alaric, the Visigoths plun
dered almost to the walls of Constantinople, and thence moved
into Greece, penetrating as far as Sparta. By 401 the Visi
goths were pressing into northern Italy, but were resisted for
the next few years by Theodosius's able Vandal general, Stilicho,
whom he had left as guardian for the young Honorius. Stili-
cho's murder, in 408, opened the road to Rome, and Alaric
promptly marched thither. It was not till 410, however, that
the Visigothic chieftain actually captured the city. The pop-
pular impression of this event was profound. The old mistress
of the world had fallen before the barbarians. Alaric, desirous
of establishing a kingdom for himself and of securing Roman
Africa, the granary of Italy, marched at once for southern
Italy, and there died before the close of 410. Under Ataulf
the Visigothic host marched northward, invading southern
Gaul in 412. Here the Goths settled by 419, developing
ultimately a kingdom that included half of modern France,
to which they added most of Spain by conquest during the
course of the century. The Roman inhabitants were not driven
out, but they were subjected to their Germanic conquerors,
who appropriated much of the land, and placed its older occu
pants in a distinctly inferior position. Commerce was ham
pered, the life of the cities largely broken down, and civilization
crippled.
While these events were in progress, the tribes across the
Rhine had seen their opportunity. The Arian Vandals and
heathen Alans and Suevi invaded Gaul at the close of 406,
ultimately pushing their way into Spain, where they arrived
before the Visigoths. The Franks had pressed into northern
Gaul and the Burgundians conquered the region around Strass-
burg, and thence gradually the territory of eastern Gaul which
still bears their name. Britain, involved in this collapse of
132 THE GERMAN INVASIONS
Roman authority, was increasingly invaded by the Saxons,
Angles, and Jutes, who had been attacking its coasts since the
middle of the fourth century. There Roman civilization had
a weaker grasp than on the continent, and as Germanic con
quest slowly advanced, it drove the Celtic element largely
westward, and made much of Britain a heathen land. The
Vandals from Spain, having entered Africa by 425, invaded it
in full force in 429, under Gaiseric. They soon established there
the most powerful of the early Germanic kingdoms, whose pi
ratical ships speedily dominated the western Mediterranean.
A Vandal raid sacked Rome in 455. A fearful invasion of
Gaul in 451, by the Huns under Attila, was checked in battle
near Troyes by the combined forces of the Romans and Visi
goths. The next year Attila carried his devastations into Italy,
and was barely prevented from taking Rome by causes which
are now obscure, but among which the efforts of its bishop,
Leo I, were believed to have been determinative.
Though the rule of the Emperors was nominally maintained
in the West, and even the Germanic conquerors, who established
kingdoms in Gaul, Spain, and Africa were professedly their de
pendents, the Emperors became the tools of the chiefs of the
army. On the death of Honorius, in 423, the empire passed
to Valentinian III. His long reign, till 455, was marked by the
quarrels of Boniface, count of Africa, and Aetius, the count
of Italy, which permitted the Vandal conquest of North Africa.
Aetius won, indeed, about the last victory of the empire when,
with the Visigoths, he defeated Attila in 451. Between 455 and
476 no less than nine Emperors were set up and deposed in the
West. The real ruler of Italy was the head of the army. From
456 to 472 this post was held by Ricimer, of Suevic and Visi-
gothic descent. After his death the command was taken by
a certain Orestes, who conferred the imperial title on his son,
Romulus, nicknamed Augustulus. The army in Italy was
recruited chiefly from smaller Germanic tribes, among them the
Rugii and Heruli. It now demanded a third of the land.
Orestes refused, and the army rose in mutiny in 476 under the
Germanic general Odovakar, whom it made King. This date
has usually been taken as that of the close of the Roman Em
pire. In reality it was without special significance. Romulus
Augustulus was deposed. There was no further Emperor in
the West till Charlemagne. But Odovakar and his contem-
THE GERMAN INVASIONS 133
poraries had no thought that the Roman Empire was at an
end. He ruled in Italy as' the Visigoths ruled in southern
France and Spain, a nominal subject of the Roman Emperor,
who sat on the throne in Constantinople.
Odovakar's sovereignty in Italy was ended in 493 in the
struggle against new Germanic invaders of Italy, the Ostro
goths, led by Theodoric. Under that successful conqueror a
really Remarkable amalgamation of Roman and Germanic in
stitutions was attempted. His capital was Ravenna, whence
he ruled till his death in 526. The Ostrogothic kingdom in
Italy was brought to an end by the long wars under the Em
peror Justinian, which were fought, from 535 to 555, by Beli-
sarius and Narses, who restored a ravaged Italy to the empire.
Contemporaneously (534) the imperial authority wras re-estab
lished in North Africa and the Vandal kingdom brought to
an end. Italy was not long at peace. Between 568 and 572
a new Germanic invasion, that of the Lombards, founded a
kingdom that was to last for two centuries. Masters of north
ern Italy, to which region they gave their name, the Lombards
did not, however, win Rome and the southern part of the
peninsula, nor did they gain Ravenna, the seat of the imperial
exarch, till the eighth century. Rome remained, therefore,
connected with the empire which had its seat in Constanti
nople, but so distant and so close to the Lombard frontier
that effective control from Constantinople was impossible —
a condition extremely favorable for the growth of the political
power of its bishop.
Contemporaneously with the earlier of the events just de
scribed, changes of the utmost significance were in process in
Gaul. The Franks, of whom mention has been made, had
long been pressing into the northern part of the ancient prov
inces. Divided into several tribes, the King of the Salic
j Franks, from about 481, was Clovis. A chieftain of great
^energy, he soon extended his sovereignty as far as the Loire.
He and his people were still heathen, though he treated the
church with respect. In 493 he married Clotilda, a Burgun-
dian, but, unlike most of her fellow countrymen, a "Catholic,"
not an Arian. After a great victory over the Alemans, in 496,
he declared for Christianity, and was baptized with three
thousand of his followers in Rheims, on Christmas of that
year. His was the first Germanic tribe, therefore, to be con-
J
134 THE CONVERSION OF THE FRANKS
verted to the orthodox faith. Visigoths, Ostrogoths, Vandals,
Burgundians, and Lombards were Arians. This agreement in
belief won for Clovis not only the good-will of the old Roman
population and the support of the bishops whom he, in turn,
favored but, added to his own abilities, enabled him before his
death, in 511, to take from the Visigoths most of their posses
sions north of the Pyrenees and to become so extensive a ruler
that he may well be called the founder of France, his territories
stretching even beyond the Rhine. That the Franks were
"Catholic" was ultimately, though not immediately, to bring
connections between them and the papacy of most far-reaching
consequences.
The conversion of the Franks had also much influence on
the other Germanic invaders, though the example of the native
population among whom they were settled worked even more
powerfully. The Burgundians abandoned Arianism in 517,
and in 532 became part of the Frankish kingdom. The im
perial conquests of Justinian ended the Arian kingdoms of the
Vandals and Ostrogoths. The rivalry of the creeds was ter
minated in Spain by the renunciation of Arianism by the Visi-
gothic King, Recared, in 587, and confirmed at the Third Coun
cil of Toledo, in 589. About 590 the gradual conversion of
the Lombards to Catholicism began — a process not completed
till about 660. Thus all Arianism ultimately disappeared.
SECTION VI. THE GROWTH OF THE PAPACY
To the distinction already attaching to the Roman Church
and its bishop the period of the invasions brought new emi
nence. Believed to be founded by Peter, situated in the an
cient capital, the guardian of apostolical tradition, the largest
and most generous church of the West, it had stood orthodox
in the Arian controversy, and in the ruin of the Germanic in
vasions it seemed the great surviving institution of the ancient
world which they were unable to overthrow. While most of
the bishops of Rome in this period were men of moderate
abilities, several were the strongest leaders of the West, and to
~ them great advancement in the authority of the Roman bishop
\ — the development of a real papacy— was due. Such a leader
" \ of force was Innocent I (402-417). He claimed for the Roman
C, Church not only custody of apostolical tradition and the f ounda-
THE GROWTH OF THE PAPACY 135
tion of all Western Christianity, but ascribed the decisions of
Sardica (ante, p. 121) to the Council of Nicsea, and based on!
them a universal jurisdiction of the Roman bishop.1 Leo I
(440-461) greatly served Rome, in the judgment of the time, \
during the invasions of the Huns and Vandals, and largely
influenced the' result of the Council of Chalcedon (p. 151). He
emphasized the primacy of Peter among the Apostles, both in <\
faith and government, and taught that what Peter possessed had (
Y passed to Peter's successors.2 These claims Leo largely madey
good. He ended the attempt to create an independent Gallic
see in Aries ; he exercised authority in Spain and North Africa.
In 445 he procured an edict from the Western Emperor, Valen-
tinian III, ordering all to obey the Roman bishop, as having
the "primacy of Saint Peter." 3 On the other hand, the Coun
cil of Chalcedon, in 451, by its twenty-eighth canon placed •
Constantinople on a practical equality with Rome.4 Against (
this action Leo at once protested; but it foreshadowed the ulti- /
mate separation, far more political than religious, between the/
churches of East and West.
In the struggle with Monophysitism (p. 154), the bishops of
Rome resisted the efforts of the Emperor Zeno (474-491) and
the Patriarch Acacius of Constantinople to modify the results
of Chalcedon by the so-called Henoticon,5 with the result that
Pope Felix III (483-492) excommunicated Acacius, and a
schism began between East and West which ended in 519 in
a papal triumph. During this controversy Pope Gelasius (492-
496) wrote a letter to Zeno's successor, the Eastern Emperor
Anastasius, in which he declared " there are . . . two by whom
principally this world is ruled : the sacred authority of the
pontiffs and the royal power. Of these the importance of the
priests is so much the greater, as even for Kings of men they
will have to give an account in the divine judgment." 6 In -
502 Bishop Ennodius of Pavia urged that the Pope can be
judged by God alone.7 The later claims of the mediaeval
papacy were, therefore, sketched by the beginning of the
sixth century. Circumstances prevented their development
in full practice in the period immediately following. The rise
of the Ostrogothic kingdom in Italy and the reconquest of
1 Letters, 2, 25 ; Mirbt, Quellen zur Geschichte des Papsttums, 54, 55.
2 Sermons, 32- 3; Ayer, p. 477. 3 Mirbt, p. 65. 4 Ayer, p. 521.
B Ayer, p. 527. 6 Ayer, p. 531. 7 Mirbt, p. 70.
136 THE RISE OF MONASTICISM
Italy by the Eastern empire, diminished the independence of
the papacy. Outside of Italy the growth of a new Catholic
power, the Franks, and the gradual conversion of Arian Ger
manic rulers, brought about a harmony between the new sover
eigns and their bishops that gave to the latter extensive in
dependence of Roman claims, though accompanied by great
dependence on the Germanic sovereigns. The full realization
of the papal ideal, thus early established, was to be a task of
centuries, and was to encounter many vicissitudes.
*, SECTION VII. MONASTICISM
?
It has been pointed out that ascetic ideals and a double
standard of Christian morality had long been growing in the
church before the time of Constantine (ante, pp. 103, 104). Their
progress was aided by the ascetic tendencies inherent in the
better philosophies of the ancient world. Origen, for instance,
who was permeated with the Hellenistic spirit, was distinguished
for his asceticism. Long before the close of the third century
the holy virgins were a conspicuous element in the church,
and men and women, without leaving their homes, were prac-
) tising asceticism. Nor is asceticism, or even monasticism,
peculiar to Christianity. Its representatives are to be found in
; the religions of India and among Jews, Greeks, and Egyptians.
Certain causes led to its increased development contem
porary with the recognition of Christianity by the state. The
low condition of the church, (emphasized by the influx of vast
numbers in the peace from 260 to 303, and after the conver
sion of Constantine,\ led to enlarged valuation of the ascetic
life by serious-minded Christians. The cessation of martyr-
. doms left asceticism the highest Christian achievement attain-
\1 able. The world was filled with sights that offended Christian
morality, from which it seemed well to flee. The mind of an-
/ tiquity regarded the practice of contemplation as more estima-
V ble than the active virtues. Above all, the extreme formalism
A and rigidity of public worship, as developed by the close of
/ the third century, led to a desire for a freer and more individual
L approach to God. Monasticism was soon to become formal
enough ; but in its initiation it was a breach with the limita-
tions of conventional Christian worship and service. It_was W
: :~:~ a lavman>s movement.
EARLY MONASTICISM 137
:, the founder of Christian monasticism, was born in
Koma, in central Egypt, about 250, of native (Coptic) stock. ;
Impressed with Christ's words to the rich young man,1 he gave *
v/up his possessions, and about 270 took up the ascetic life in/
his native vijlage. Some fifteen years later he went into the L
solitude, becoming a hermit. Here he is said to have lived )
till 356 (?). He believed himself tormented by demons in every /
imaginable form. He fasted. He practised the strictest self- V
denial. He prayed constantly. He would draw near to God
by overcoming the flesh. Anthony soon had many imitators,
some of whom lived absolutely alone, others in groups, of which
the largest were in the deserts of Nitria and Scetis. Whether /
singly or in groups, these monks were as far as possible hermit-
like. Their worship and their self-denials were largely of l
their own devising.
The first great improver of monasticism was Pachomius.
Born about 292, he became a soldier, and was converted from
heathenism to Christianity when perhaps twenty years old.
At first he adopted the hermit life, but dissatisfied with its
irregularities, he established the first Christian monastery in
Tabennisi, in southern Egypt, about 315-320. Here all the
inmates were knit into a single body, having assigned work,
regular hours of worship, similar dress, and cells close to one
another — in a word, a life in common under an abbot. This
was a vastly more healthful type of monasticism. It was also
one possible for women, for whom Pachomius established a \/
convent. At his death, in 346, there were ten of his monasteries
in Egypt.
^/ The two types, the hermit form of Anthony and the cenobite
organization of Pachomius, continued side by side in Egypt,
and both were carried from that land to the rest of the em
pire. Syria saw a considerable development early in the fourth I
century. There the hermit form took extravagant expres- ^
sion, of which an example, a little later, is that of the famous
Simeon gtvlitgs. who dwelt for thirty years, till his death in
459, on the top of a pillar, situated east of ^ntioph. Mo
nasticism in Asia Minor, on the other hand, continued the
tradition of Pachomius, chiefly owing to the efforts of its great
^l popularizer, JBasjL (ante, p. 125), who labored for its spread
from about 360 to his death in 379. The Rule which bears
1 Matt. 1921.
138 THE SPREAD OF MONASTICISM
his name, whether his actual composition or not, was even
I more that of a life in common than that of Pachomius. It
\ emphasized work, prayer, and Bible reading. It taught that
monks should aid those outside by the care of orphans, and
T similar good deeds. It discouraged extreme asceticism. Basil's
/ Rule is, in a general way, a basis of the monasticism of the Greek
/ and Russian Churches to the present day, though with much
(^less weight laid than by him on work and helpfulness to
others.
/ The introduction of monasticism into the West was the
work of Athanasius. By the closing years of the fourth cen-
/tury the exhortations and examples of Jerome, Ambrose, and
) Augustine brought it much favor, though it also encountered
/ no little opposition. In France its great advocate was Martin
Tpurs, who established a monastery near Poitiers about
Soon monasticism, both in its cenobite and in its hermit
orms, was to be found throughout the West. The earliest
monks, as in the East, were laymen ; but Eusebius, bishop of
Vercelli in Italy, who died in 371, began the practice of requir
ing the clergy of his cathedral to live the monastic life. Through
the influence of this example it gradually became the custom
for monks to receive priestly ordination. Such clerical consecra-
;ion became, also, the rule ultimately in the East.
Western monasticism was long in a chaotic condition. Indi
vidual monasteries had their separate rules. Asceticism, always
characteristic in high degree of Eastern monasticism, found
many disciples. On the other hand, many monasteries were
lax. The great reformer of Western monasticism was Benedict
^of Nursia. Born about 480, he studied for a brief time in Rome,
but, oppressed by the evils of the city, he became a hermit
(c. 500) in a cave of the mountains at Subiaco, east of Rome.
The fame of his sanctity gathered disciples about him, and led
to the offer of the headship of a neighboring monastery, which
he accepted only to leave when he found its ill-regulated monks
unwilling to submit to his discipline. At some uncertain date,
traditionally 529, he now founded the mother monastery of
the Benedictine order, on the hill of Monte Cassino, about
half-way between Rome and Naples. To it he gave his Rule,
and in it he died; the last certain event of his life, his meet
ing with the Ostrogothic King, Totila, having taken place in
542.
BENEDICT'S RULE
139
Benedict's famous Rule1 exhibited his profound knowledge
of human nature and his Roman genius for organization.
pe
nr|<ai self-
contained and self-supporting garri§Dii_,,QL Christ' s_soldiers.
At Tts head was an abbot, who must, he implicitly obeyed,
yet who was bound in grave matters of common concern
to consult all the brethren, and in minor questions the elder
monks: None wasjto~beconie__ a. monk without having fried
life of the mona^teryfor^a year; but, ocuce^admitted,, his,
vowlPwere irrevocable^ To~Benedict's thinking, wjorship was
undouBtediy the ; prime dutyLJiL^-Jnojik. Its daily common
observance occupied at least four hours, divided into seven
periods. Almost as much emphasis, was laid on. work. " Idle
ness is the enemy of the spuTT' Hence Benedict prescribed
manual labor in the fields.and_ceadio£. Some fixed time must
^
be "spent in reading eachday, varying with the seasons of the
year; and in Lent books must be assigned, with provision to
insure their being read. These injunctions made every_Jiene-
dictine monastery, at all true to the founder s ideal, a_centre
of lnxlul£^,Iancl ±he_possesspr of a library. The value of these,
provisions in the training of the Germanic nations and the\
preservation of literature was inestimable. Yet they were but'
secondary to Benedict's main purpose, that of worship. In
general, Benedict's Rule was characterized by great modera
tion and good sense in its requirements as to food, labor, and
discipline. It was a strict life, but one not at all impossible
for the average earnest man.
. In the Benedictine system early Western monasticism is to
be seen at its best. His_Rule spread slowly. Itjwas carried
by Roman missionaries to England and Germany. It did not
penetrate France till the seventh century; but by the time, of
Charlemagne it had become well-nigh universal. With__the
ilule of Benedict the adjustment between monasticism and the
rc1rwas~TX5mplete. The services of its monks as mission-
afies~anct pioneers were of inestimable value. In troubled
times the monastery afforded the_ojily__re£uge for ^peace-loving
vSpuls. The highest proof of its adaption to the later Roman
Empire and the Middle Ages was that not only the best men
supported the institution; they were to be found in it. Its
1 Extracts in Ayer, pp. 631-641 ; practically in full in Henderson, Select
Historical Documents of the Middle Ages, pp. 274-314.
140 AMBROSE
great faults, from a modern point of view, were its emphasis
on a distinction between higher and lower morality, and its
discredit of the life of the Christian family ; but both were in
heritances from Christian conditions and ideals in the Roman
Empire antecedent to the development of monasticism. Mo-
nasticism was their product, not their cause.
SECTION VIII. AMBROSE AND CHRYSOSTOM
j V
<K The contrast between East and West is in many ways illus
trated by the unlike qualities and experiences of Chrysostom
and Ambrose. Ambrose was born in Trier, now in western
Germany, where his father held the high civil office of prae
torian prefect of Gaul, about 337-340. Educated in Rome for
' £ civil career, his talents, integrity, and likableness led to his
/ appointment, about 374, as governor of a considerable part of
^ northern Italy, with his residence in Milan, then practically
an imperial capital. The death of the Arian bishop, Auxen-
tius, in 374, left the Milanese see vacant. The two factions
were soon in bitter struggle as to the theological complexion
of his successor. The young governor entered the church to
quiet the throng, when the cry was raised, "Ambrose Bishop I"
and he found himself, though unbaptized, elected bishop of
Milan. To Ambrose, this was a call of God. He gave up his
wealth to the poor and the church. He studied theology. He
became a most acceptable preacher. Above all, he possessed
to the full the Roman talent for administration, and he soon
Vbecame the first ecclesiastic of the West. Strongly attached
to the Nicene faith, Ambrose would make no compromise with
the Arians, and resisted all their attempts to secure places of
worship in Milan — an effort in which they were aided by the
Empress Justina, mother of the youthful Valentinian II. In
the same spirit he opposed successfully the efforts of the hea
then party in Rome to obtain from Valentinian II the res
toration of the Altar of Victory in the Senate chamber, and
other privileges for the older worship. His greatest triumph
was in the case of the Emperor Theodosius. That quick
tempered ruler, angered by the murder of the governor of
Thessalonica, in 390, caused a punitive massacre of its inhab-
J itants. Ambrose, with rare moral courage, called on the
Emperor to manifest his public repentance.1 It throws a
1 Ayer, pp. 390, 391.
AMBROSE AND CHRYSOSTOM 141
pleasing light on the character of Theodosius that he obeyed
the admonition.
Ambrose was a theological writer of such reputation that ^
the Roman Church reckons him as one of its " Doctors " — or
authoritative teachers. His work, however, in this field was
largely a reproduction of the thoughts of Greek theologians,
though with a deeper sense of sin and grace than they. "I
will not glory because I am righteous, but I will glory because
I #m redeemed. I will not glory because I am free from sin,
.but because my sins are forgiven." l Ambrose's bent was
J practical. He wrote on Christian ethics, in full sympathy with
the ascetic movement of the time. He contributed much to
the development of Christian hymnology in the West. Force
ful and sometimes overbearing, he was a man of the highest
personal character and of indefatigable zeal — a true prince of the*
church. Such men were needed in the shock of the collapsing
empire if the church was to survive in power. He died in 397.
Very different was the life of Chrysostom. John, to whom ^
the name Chrysostom, "golden-mouthed," was given long after
his death, was born of noble and well-to-do parents in An-
tioch about 345-347. Losing his father shortly after his birth, j
he was brought up by his religious-minded mother, Anthusa, /
and early distinguished himself in scholarship and eloquence. *-
About 370, he was baptized and probably ordained a "reader." /
He now practised extreme asceticism, and pursued theological \
studies under Diodorus of Tarsus, one of the leaders of the
later Antiochian school. Not satisfied with his austerities, he
became a hermit (c. 375), and so remained till ill-health com
pelled his return to Antioch, where he was ordained a deacon
(c. 381). In 386 he was advanced to the priesthood. Then
followed the happiest and most useful period of his life. For
twelve years he was the great preacher of Antioch — the ablest , /
that the Oriental Church probably ever possessed. His ser
mons were exegetical and eminently practical. The simple,
grammatical understanding of the Scriptures, always preferred
in Antioch to the allegorical interpretation beloved in Alexan
dria, appealed to him. His themes were eminently social — the
Christian conduct of life. He soon had an enormous following.
Such was Chrysostom's fame that, on the see of Constanti
nople falling vacant, he was practically forced by Eutropius,
1 De Jacob et vita beata, 1 : 621.
J
142 CHRYSOSTOM
the favorite of the Emperor Arcadius, to accept the bishopric
Jof the capital in 398. Here he soon won a popular hearing
like that of Antioch. From the first, however, his way in Con
stantinople was beset with foes. The unscrupulous patriarch
of Alexandria, Theophilus, desired to bring Constantinople
into practical subjection. Himself the opponent of Origen's
teaching, he charged Chrysostom with too great partiality for
that master. Chrysostom's strict discipline, for which there
( was ample justification, was disliked by the loose-living clergy
/ of Constantinople. Worst of all, he won the hostility of the
J vigorous Empress Eudoxia, by reasons of denunciations of femi
nine extravagance in dress, which she thought aimed at herself.
Chrysostom was certainly as tactless as he was fearless in de
nouncing offenses in high places. All the forces against him
gathered together. A pretext for attack soon arose. In his
opposition to Origen, Theophilus had disciplined certain monks
of Egypt. Four of these, known as the "tall brothers," fled
to Chrysostom, by whom they were well received. Theophilus
and Chrysostom's other enemies now secured a synod, at an
imperial estate near Constantinople known as "The Oak,"
which, under the leadership of Theophilus, condemned and
C deposed Chrysostom in 403. The Empress was as supersti-
/ tious as she was enraged, and an accident in the palace — later
tradition pictured it probably mistakenly as an earthquake — led
to Chrysostom's recall shortly after he had left the capital.
Peace was of brief duration. A silver statue of the Empress,
erected hard by his cathedral, led to denunciations by Chrys
ostom of the ceremonies of its dedication. The Empress saw
in him more than ever a personal enemy. This time, in spite
of warm popular support, he was banished to the miserable
town of Cucusus, on the edge of Armenia. Pope Innocent I
protested, but in vain. Yet from this exile Chrysostom con
tinued so to influence his friends by letter that his opponents
determined to place him in deeper obscurity. In 407 he was
ordered to Pityus, but he never reached there, dying on the
journey.
The fate of this most deserving, if not most judicious, preacher
.of righteousness illustrates the seamy side of imperial inter-
I ference in ecclesiastical affairs, and the rising jealousies of the
I great sees of the East, from whose mutual hostility the church
/ and the empire were greatly to suffer.
THE CHRISTOLOGICAL PROBLEM 143
SECTION IX. THE CHRISTOLOGICAL CONTROVERSIES
The Nicene result determined that Christ is fully God, and
"was made man." On the common basis of Nicene orthodoxy,
however, the further question arose as to the relations of the
divine and huinan in Him. Regarding that problem the Nicene
creed was silent, and even the great Nicene champion, Athana-
sius, had not paid much attention to it. Only in the West
had a general formula come into extensive use. As the Nicene
^decision had been largely anticipated by Tertullian, with the
^result that the \Vest had been united when the East was divided,
so thanks to the clear definitions of that great African writer,
the West had a conception of full deity and full manhood ex
isting in Christ, without confusion, and without diminution of
the qualities appropriate to each. In the new struggle, as in
that of Nicsea, the Western view was to triumph. Yet neither S
in its conception of "one substance in three persons," nor in ^
that of "one person, Jesus, God, and man" (ante, p. 69), had the
West any wrought-out philosophical theory. What Tertullian
had given it were clear-cut judicial definitions of traditional
beliefs rather than philosophically thought-out theology. It
"was the advantage of the West once more, as in the Nicene
struggle, that it was now united, even if its thought was not
so profound as that of the divided East, when the East fairly
I began to wrestle with the intellectual problems involved.
] It was possible to approach the Christological problem from
two angles. The unity of Christ might be so emphasized as
to involve a practical absorption of His humanity into divinity ;
or the integrity of each element, the divine and the human,
maintained in such fashion as to give color to the interpreta
tion that in Him were two separate beings. Both tendencies
were manifested in the controversy — the first being that toward
which the theological leaders of Alexandria leaned, and the
latter being derivable from the teachings of the school of
Antioch.
The first and one of the ablest of those who undertook a
really profound discussion of the relation of the human and the
^divine in Christ was Apollinaris, bishop of Laodicea in Syria
(?-c. 390). A hearty supporter of the Nicene decision, he en
joyed for a considerable time at least the friendship of Atha-
nasius. His intellectual gifts were such as to command respect
144 APOLLINARIS
even from his opponents. Moreover, as with Athanasius, Apol-
linaris's interest was primarily religious. To both, Christ's
work for men was the transformation of our sinful mortality
into divine and blessed immortality. This salvation, Apolli-
naris thought with Athanasius, could be achieved only if Christ
was completely and perfectly divine. But how, Apollinaris
argued, could Christ be made up of a perfect man united with
complete God ? Was that not to assert two Sons, one eternal,
and the other by adoption ? 1 Nor could Apollinaris explain
Christ's sinlessness or the harmony of His wills, if Christ was
complete man joined with full God.2 To him, the best solu-
r,tion seemed akin to that of Arius, whom he otherwise opposed,
/ that in Jesus the place of the soul was taken by the Logos,
f and only the body was human. That view having been con-
Jdemned, though without mention of his name, by a synod in
jAlexandria in 362, 3 Apollinaris apparently altered his theory
/so as to hold that Jesus had the body and animal soul of a man,
but that the reasoning spirit in Him was the Logos.4 At the
same time he held that the divine so made the human one
with it — so absorbed it — that "God has in His own flesh suf
fered our sorrows." 5 These opinions seemed to do special
honor to Christ's divinity, and were destined to be widely and
permanently influential in Oriental Christian thinking, but they
really ^denied Christ's true humanity, and as such speedily
called down condemnation on their author. Rome decided
against him in 377 and 382, Antioch in 378, and finally the
i so-called Second Ecumenical Council — that of Constantinople
>J pin 381. 6
Apollinaris was strongly oppposed by Gregory of Nazianzus
and by the school of Antioch. The founoTef of the latter, in
its later stage, was Diodorus (?-394), long a presbyter of An
tioch, and from 378 to his death bishop of Tarsus. Its roots,
indeed, ran back into the earlier teaching of Paul of Samosata
(ante, p. 72) and Lucian (ante, p. 106) ; but the extreme posi
tions which they represented, and their leadership, were re
jected, and the school stood on the basis of the Nicene ortho
doxy. It was marked by a degree of literalism in its exegesis
of Scripture quite in contrast to the excessive use of allegory
1 Ayer, p. 495. 2 Ibid.
8 Athanasius, Tomus ad Antiochenos, 7.
4 Ayer, p. 495. 8 Ibid., p. 496. 6 Canon, 1.
THE SCHOOL OF ANTIOCH 145
by the Alexandrians. Its philosophy showed the influence of
Aristotle as theirs that of Plato. Its thought of Christ was
more influenced by the tradition of Asia Minor, of the "second
Adam," and by the ancient distinction between the Jesus of
history and the Christ of experience than was Alexandria.
Antioch, therefore, laid more weight of teaching on the earthly
life and'human nature of Jesus than was the tendency in Alex
andria. In this attempt to give true value to Christ's human
ity, Diodorus approached the view that in Christ were two per
sons in moral rather than essential union. Since the Logos is t
eternal and like can only bear like, that which was born of Mary
was the human only. The incarnation was the indwelling of j
the Logos in a perfect man, as of God in a temple. These views ;
are reminiscent of the adoptionist Christology, which had '
found one of its latest avowed defenders in Paul of Samosata
in Antioch a century earlier. They were out of touch with the
v/ Greek conception of salvation — the making divine of the human.
Among the disciples of Diodorus were Chrysostom (ante, p.
141), Theodore of Mopsuestia, and Nestorius. Theodore, a
native of Antioch, who held the bishopric for which he is
named for thirty-six years, till his death in 428, was the ablest
exegete and theologian of the Antiochian school. Though he
maintained that God and man in Christ constituted one per
son — prosopon, irpocrwrrov — he had difficulty in making that con
tention real, and held theories practically identical with those
of Diodorus.1
Nestorius. a presbyter and monk of Antioch, held in high
repute th*ere as a preacher, was made patriarch of Constanti
nople in 428. Recent discoveries, especially of his own auto
biographical work, The Treatise of Heraclides of Damascus,
have immensely broadened knowledge of his real theological
position, as well as of the facts of his later life. His dogmatic
standpoint was essentially that of the school of Antioch; yet
he would not admit that there \vere in Christ two persons —
the doctrine with which he was charged. "With the one name
Christ we designate at the same time two natures. . . . The
essential characteristics in the nature of the divinity and in
the humanity are from all eternity distinguished." 2 Perhaps
his furthest departure from the current Greek conception of
salvation is to be seen in such an expression as : " God the Word
1 Ayer, pp. 498-501. 2 Ibid., p. 502.
J
\
146 THE ALEXANDRIAN INTERPRETATION
is also named Christ because He has always conjunction with
Christ. And it is impossible for God the Word to do anything
without the humanity, for all is planned upon an intimate
conjunction, not on the deification of the humanity." 1 Nes-
torius would emphasize the reality and completeness of the
human in the Christian's Lord.
Opposed to Nestorius, and to be his bitterest enemy, was
Cyril, the patriarch of Alexandria (412-444), the nephew and
successor of the patriarch who had had so unworthy a part in
the downfall of Chrysostom. In him unscrupulous ambition
combined with the jealousy of Constantinople long entertained
in Alexandria — and it must be admitted, reciprocated — and
with the hostility of the rival schools of Alexandria and Antioch.
Yet it is but just to Cyril to note that there was more in his
opposition to Nestorius than mere jealousy and rivalry, how
ever prominent those unlovely traits may have been. Cyril,
following the Alexandrian tradition, and in consonance with the
Greek conception of salvation, saw in Christ the full making
divine of the human. Though he rejected the view of Apol-
linaris and held that Christ's humanity was complete in that
it possessed body, soul, and spirit, he really stood very near to
Apollinaris. His emphasis on the divine in Christ was such
that, though he described the union in Him as that of "two
natures," the only personality in Christ was that of the Logos.
The Logos "took flesh," He clothed Himself with humanity.
The human element had no personality apart from the Logos.
Jesus was not an individual man. Yet while Cyril held to
an interchange of qualities between the divine and the human,
each is a complete nature. " From two natures, one" ; and that
one personality is the divine. For Cyril it was, therefore,
God made flesh, who was born, who died, of whom we partake
in the Supper, and whose making divine of humanity is the
proof and means that we, too, shall be made partakers of the
divine nature.2 If the school of Antioch came near such a
separation of the divine and the human as to leave Christ
only the Son of God by adoption, that of Cyril allowed Him
little more than an impersonal humanity absorbed in divinity.
An ancient designation of the Mother of Jesus was " Mother of
God"— Theotokos, ©eoroW?. It had been used by Alexander of
Alexandria, Athanasius, Apollinaris, and Gregory of Nazianzus.
1 Ayer, p. 502. 2 See Ayer, pp. 505-507.
THE "MOTHER OF GOD" 147
To Cyril it was, of course, a natural expression. Everywhere
in the East it may be said to have been in good usage, save
where the school of Antioch had influence, and even Theodore
of Mopsuestia of that school was willing to employ the expres
sion, if carefully guarded.1 Nestorius found it current coin in
Constantinople. To his thinking it did not sufficiently dis
tinguish the human from the divine in Christ. He therefore
preached against it, at the beginning of his bishopric, declaring
the proper form to be "Mother of Christ"— "for that which
is born of flesh is flesh." Yet even he expressed himself a
little later as willing to say Theotokos, in the guarded way in
which Theodore would employ it. " It can be endured in con
sideration of the fact that the temple, which is inseparably
united with God the Word, comes of her." 3 In preaching
against this expression Nestorius had touched popular piety
and the rising religious reverence for the Virgin on the quick.
Cyril saw his opportunity to humiliate the rival see of Con
stantinople and the school of Antioch at one blow, while ad
vancing his own Christology. Cyril promptly wrote to the
Egyptian monks defending the disputed phrase, and 'there
soon followed an exchange of critical letters between Cyril and
Nestorius. It speedily came to an open attack on the patri
arch of Constantinople. •
Cyril now brought every influence at his command to his
aid in one of the most repulsive contests in church history.
He appealed to the Emperor and Empress, Theodosius II and
Eudocia, and to the Emperor's sister, Pulcheria, representing
that Nestorius's doctrines destroyed all basis of salvation.
He presented his case to Pope Celestine I (422-432). Nes
torius, in his turn, also wrote to the Pope. Celestine promptly
found in favor of Cyril, and ordered, through a Roman synod
in 430, that Nestorius recant or be excommunicated. The
action of the Pope is hard to understand. The letter of Nes
torius agreed more nearly in its definition of the question at
issue with the Western view than did the theory of Cyril. Nes
torius declared his faith in " both natures which by the highest
and unmixed union are adored in the one person of the Only
Begotten." 4 Politics were probably the determining factor.
Rome and Alexandria had long worked together against the
1 Ayer, p. 500. 2 Ibid., p. 501. a Ibid.
4 In Loofs, Nestoriana, p. 171.
j
148 THE COUNCIL OF EPHESUS
rising claims of Constantinople. Nestorius was less respectful
in his address to the Pope than Cyril. Moreover, without being
a Pelagian, Nestorius had given some degree of favor to the
Pelagians whom the Pope opposed (see p. 187). Nestorius's
attack on the much-prized Theotokos was also displeasing to
Celestine.
The empire being now widely involved in the dispute, the
two Emperors, Theodosius II of the East, and Valentinian III
in the West, called a general council to meet in Ephesus in
431. Cyril and his followers were early on hand, as was Nes
torius, but the friends of Nestorius were slow in arriving.
Cyril and Memnon, bishop of Ephesus promptly organized
such of the council as were present and they could secure.
v Nestorius was condemned and deposed in a single day's ses
sion.1 A few days later Nestorius's friends, led by John, the
patriarch of Antioch, arrived. They organized and, in turn,
v condemned and deposed Cyril and Memnon.2 Cyril's council,
meanwhile, had been joined by the papal delegates, and added
/John to its list of deposed, at the same time condemning Pela-
^ gianism (see p. 188), doubtless to please the West. The
Emperor Theodosius II was at a loss as to what course to
pursue. Nestorius retired to a monastery. Theodosius im
prisoned Cyril and Memnon as trouble-makers, but politics
inclined to their side and they were soon allowed to return to
their sees. The real victim was Nestorius, and worse was to
\f follow.
Antioch and Alexandria were now in hostility more than
ever, but both, under imperial pressure, were made willing to
compromise. Antioch would sacrifice Nestorius, and Cyril
concede something to Antioch in creedal formula. Accord
ingly, in 433, John of Antioch sent to Cyril a creed composed,
it is probable, by Theodoret of Cyrus, then the leading theo
logian of the school of Antioch. This creed was more Anti-
ochian than Alexandrian, though it could be interpreted in
either direction. "We therefore acknowledge our Lord Jesus
Christ . . . complete God and complete man. ... A union
of the two natures has been made, therefore we confess one
Christ. . . . The holy Virgin is Theotokos, because God the
Word was made flesh and became man, and from her concep
tion united with Himself the temple received from her." 3
1 Ayer, p. 507. 2 Ibid., 509. 3 Ibid., pp. 510, 511.
THE FATE OF NESTORIUS 149
Cyril now signed this creed, though without retracting any of
his former utterances. By so doing he made irrevocable the
overthrow of Nestorius. Yet Nestorius could have signed it
even more willingly than he. This agreement enabled Cyril
to secure general recognition in the East for his council of 431,
in Ephesus — ih the West the participation of papal representa
tives had always accredited it as the Third General Council.
Nestorius himself 'was banished to upper Egypt. There he
lived a miserable existence, and there he wrote, certainly as
late as the autumn of 450, his remarkable Treatise of Heraclides
of Damascus. Whether he survived the Council of Chalcedon (/
is uncertain. There is some reason to think that he did. At
all events he rejoiced in the steps which led to it, and felt
himself in sympathy with the views which were then pro
claimed orthodox.
Not all of Nestorius's sympathizers shared in his desertion.,
Ibas, the leading theologian of the Syrian school of Edessa^ */
supported his teaching. Persecuted in the empire, Nestorian-
ism found much following even in Syria, and protection in
Persia. There it developed a wide missionary activity. In ~/
the seventh century it entered China, and about the same time
southern India. Nestorian churches still exist in the region
where Turkey and Persia divide the territory between Lake
Urumia and the upper Tigris, and also in India.
The agreement of 433 between Antioch and Alexandria was,
in reality, but a truce. The division of the two parties but in
creased. Cyril undoubtedly represented the majority of the
Eastern Church, with his emphasis on the divine in the person
of Christ, at the expense of reducing the human to an im
personal humanity. Though he vigorously rejected Apolli-
narianism, his tendency was that of Apollinaris. It had the
sympathy of the great party of monks; and many, especially
in Egypt, went further than Cyril, and viewed Christ's human
ity as practically absorbed in His divinity, so that He pos
sessed one nature only, and that divine. Cyril died in 444,
and was succeeded as patriarch of Alexandria by Dioscurus,
a man of far less intellectual acumen and religious motive, but
even more ambitious, if possible, to advance the authority of
the Alexandrian see. Two years later, 446, a new patriarch,
Flavian, took the bishop's throne in Constantinople. Though
little is known of his early history, it seems probable that his
150 DIOSCURUS, FLAVIAN, AND LEO
sympathies were with the school of Antioch. From the first,
Flavian's course promised to be stormy. He had the opposi
tion not only of Dioscurus, but of the imperial favorite minis
ter, Chrysaphius, who had supplanted Pulcheria in the counsels
of Theodosius II. Chrysaphius was a supporter of the Alex
andrians.
r Occasion for quarrel soon arose. Dioscurus planned an at
tack on the remaining representatives of the Antiochian school
as Nestorian heretics. In sympathy with this effort, and as a
leader of the monastic party, on the help of which Dioscurus
counted, stood the aged abbot or "archimandrite," Eutyches
of Constantinople, a man of little theological ability, a partisan
of the late Cyril, and influential not only by reason of his
popularity, but by the friendship of Chrysaphius. Eutyches
was now charged with heresy by Bishop Eusebius of Dorylseum.
Flavian took up the case with reluctance, evidently knowing
its possibilities of mischief ; but at a local synod in Constanti
nople, late in 448, Eutyches was examined and condemned.
His heresy was that he affirmed : " I confess that our Lord was
of two natures before the union [i. e.y the incarnation], but
after the union one nature." l
Rome had now one of the ablest of its Popes in the person
of Leo I (440-461) (see ante, p. 135), and to Leo both Eutyches
and Flavian speedily presented the case.2 To Flavian, whom
he heartily supported, Leo wrote his famous letter of June, 449,
usually called the Tome,3 in which the great Pope set forth
a the view which the West had entertained since the time of
Tertullian, that in Christ were two full and complete natures,
which, " without detracting from the properties of either nature
and substance, came together in one person." What may be
said, chiefly in criticism of Leo's letter is that, while represent
ing clearly and truly the Western tradition, it did not touch
the intellectual depths to which the subtler Greek mind had
carried its speculations. Probably it was well that it did not.
Meanwhile Dioscurus was moving actively in Eutyches's
defense and the extension of his own claims. At his instance
the Emperor called a general council to meet in Ephesus in
August, 449. At Ephesus Dioscurus was supreme. Eutyches
was rehabilitated, Flavian and Eusebius of Dorylseum con-
1 Ayer, pp. 513, 514. : » Letters of Leo, 20-28.
3 Ibid., 28 ; extracts, Ayer, p. 515.
THE COUNCIL OF CHALCEDON 151
demned. Leo's Tome was denied a reading. It was a stormy
meeting, but probably not more so than that of Ephesus, in
431, or Chalcedon, in 451. Flavian died shortly after, and
rumor had it in consequence of physical violence at the council.
The report seems unfounded. Dioscurus had achieved a great
victory, but at the fatal cost of a rupture of the ancient alliance
between Alexandria and Rome. Leo promptly denounced the
council:as a "synod of robbers"; but the Emperor, Theodosius
II, gave it his hearty support and a sympathizer with Di
oscurus became patriarch of Constantinople.
Leo had no success with Theodosius II, but much with the
Emperor's sister, Pulcheria; and the situation was profoundly
altered when the accidental death of Theodosius in July, 450,
put Pulcheria and her husband, Marcian, on the throne. The
new sovereigns entered at once into relations with Leo. The
Pope wished a new council in Italy, where his influence would
have been potent, but this did not satisfy imperial politics.
The new General Council was called to meet in Nicsea, in the
autumn of 451. Imperial convenience led to the change of
place to Chalcedon, opposite Constantinople, and there some
six hundred bishops, all but the papal delegates and two others
from the Orient, assembled in what has ever since been known
as the Fourth Ecumenical Council (that of Ephesus, in 449,
being rejected).
The council proceeded rapidly with its work. Dioscurus
was deposed and sent into exile by imperial authority, where he
died three years later. After imperial pressure had been ex
erted, a commission was appointed, of which the papal dele
gates were members, to ^r^^inDa^reed.. Its production was
promptly ratified by the counciL The result was, indeed, a
Western triumph. Rome had given the decision to the ques
tion at issue, and in so doing had made a compromise between
(the positions of Antioch and Alexandria that was wholly satis
factory to neither. The result was a lengthy document, recit-
Cing the so-called Nicaeno-Constantinopolitan creed (ante, p.
/128), approving Leo's Tome, and condemning previous heresies.1
Its essential part — the creed of Chalcedon — is as follows :
We, then, following the holy Fathers, all with one consent,
teach men to ^onfre* ""** «"H fhp gfime Son, our Lor
1 Ayer, pp. 517-521.
y
152 THE CREED OF CHALCEDON
the same perfect In Godhead p"rl Q^r> p^rJWvf- Jr. m^y^ ;_truly
God and trul^m^n, of a reasonable soul and body; consubstantial
(ojjLOovcnov) with the Father according to the Godhead, ancLcon-
substantial with, .us -according to the manhood, in all things like
unto us, without sin; begotten before all ages of the Father accord
ing to the Godhead, and in these latter days, for us and for our sal
vation, born of the Virgin Mary, the Mother of God (Theotokos),
according to the manhood; one and the same Christ, Son, Lord,
Only-begotten, in two natures, inconfusedly, unchangeably, in-
divisibly, inseparably, the distinction of natures being by no
means taken away by the union, but rather the property of each
nature being preserved, and concurring in one person (prosopon)
and one subsistence (hypostasis) , not parted or divided into two
persons, but one and the same Son and Only-begotten, God the
Word, the Lord Jesus Christ; as the prophets from the beginning
have declared concerning Him, and the Lord Jesus Christ Himself
has taught us, and the creed of the holy Fathers has handed down
to us.
Such is the creed that has ever since been regarded in the
Greek, Latin, and most Protestant Churches as the " ortho
dox" solution of the Christological problem. It is easy to
criticise it. Its adoption was greatly involved in ecclesiastical
politics. It solved few of the intellectual difficulties regarding
Christology which had been raised in the East. It did not
,/ even heal the Christological quarrels. But, when all is ad
mitted, it must be said that its formulation was fortunate and
its consequences useful. It established a norm of doctrine in
a field in which there had been great confusion. More im
portant than that, it was true to the fundamental conviction
I of the church that in Christ a complete revelation of God is
^ made in terms of a genuine human life.
If a coincidence of imperial and Roman interests had secured
a great dogmatic victory for Rome, the imperial authority was
determined that the victory should not be one of Roman juris
diction. By a canon, against which Leo protested, the council
exalted the claims of Constantinople to a dignity like that of
Rome (ante, p. 135). Nor was the downfall of Alexandria less
damaging. Alexandrian rivalry of Constantinople had been
Rome's advantage in the East. Now successful rivalry was
at an end, for the consequences of the Chalcedonian decision
^f crippled Alexandria permanently. By the council the historic
distribution of the Orient was completed, Jerusalem being given
THE MONOPHYSITE REVOLT 153
the patriarchal standing which it had long claimed, side by
side with the three older patriarchates, Constantinople, Alexan
dria, and Antioch.
f SECTION X. THE EAST DIVIDED
The creed of Chalcedon was now the official standard of
the empire. Its Western origin and spirit made it unaccept
able, however, to a large portion of the East. To many Ori
entals it seemed "Nestorian." This was especially true in
those regions which shared most strongly in the Alexandrian
tendency to emphasize the divine in Christ at the expense of
the fully human, and these elements of opposition included '7
most of the monks, the old native stock of Egypt generally, \
and a large portion of the population of Syria and Armenia.
Undoubtedly {he tendencies which the "orthodox" Cyril and
his heretical successor, Dioscurus, had represented were con-
sonant with the Greek conception of salvation, and seemed
to do special honor to Christ. These rejecters of the creed
of Chalcedon included many shades of opinion, but as a whole
they showed little departure from Cyril. Their chief differ
ence from Chalcedon and the West was one of emphasis.
They rejected Eutyches, yet most of them would say "of two
natures," provided it was understood that the human and di
vine were united in the incarnation into one nature, and that
essentially divine, with human attributes. As with Cyril, this
humanity was impersonal, and, perhaps, even more than with
him it was transformed into divinity, so that without ceasing,
in a certain sense, to be human, it was properly describable as
one divine nature. Hence the opponents of Chalcedon were
>/ called Monophysites — believers in one nature.
Immediately after the Council of Chalcedon Palestine and,
next, Egypt were in practical revolution, which the government
was able only slowly to master. By 457 the see of Alexandria
was in possession of a Monophysite, Timothy, called by his
enemies the Cat; by 461, Peter the Fuller, of the same faith,
held that of Antioch. These captures were not to be perma
nent, but the native populations of Egypt and Syria were
throwing off the dominance of Constantinople and largely
sympathized with the Monophysite protest. In Antioch Peter
the Fuller caused fresh commotion by adding to the Trisagion,
154 COMPROMISE EFFORTS
so that the ascription ran: "Holy God, holy Strong, holy Im
mortal, who ivas crucified for us."
The empire found itself grievously 'threatened, politically no
less than religiously, by these disaffections; and much of the
imperial policy for more than two centuries was devoted to
their adjustment, with slight permanent success. In the con
test between Zeno and Basilicus for the imperial throne, the
latter made a direct bid for Monophysite support by issuing,
in 476, an Encyclion, in which he anathematized "the so-called
Tome of Leo, and all things done at Chalcedon " in modification
of the Nicene creed.1 For such a reversal the East was not
yet ready, and this action of Basilicus was one of the causes
that led to his overthrow by Zeno. Zeno, however, probably
induced by the patriarch Acacius of Constantinople, made a
I new attempt to heal the schism. In 482 he published his
I famous Henoticon.2 In it the results of fhe Councils of Nicsea
and Constantinople were confirmed, Nestorius and Eutyches
condemned, and Cyril's "twelve chapters"3 approved. It
gave a brief Christological statement, the exact relationship of
which to that of Chalcedon was not, and was not intended to
be, clear. Its chief significance was in the declaration : " These
things we write, not as making an innovation upon the faith,
but to satisfy you ; and every one who has held or holds any
other opinion, either at the present or at another time, whether
at Chalcedon or in any synod whatever, we anathematize."
This left it free to hold the Chalcedonian creed to be errone
ous. The consequence was not peace but confusion. While
many Monophysites accepted it, the Monophysite extremists
would have nothing to do with the Henoticon. On the other
hand, the Roman see, feeling its honor and its orthodoxy at
tacked by this practical rejection of Chalcedon, excommuni
cated Acacius and broke off relations with the East, the schism
continuing till 519, when the Emperor Justin renewed the
authority of Chalcedon, under circumstances that increased
the prestige of the papacy,4 but only alienated Egypt and Syria
the more.
! Justin's successor, the great Justinian (527-565), more fully
than any other of the Eastern Emgerors, succeeded in making
himself master of the church. His conspicuous military suc-
1 Ayer, pp. 523-526. 2 Ibid., pp. 527-529.
3 Ibid., pp. 505-507. 4 Ante, p. 135 ; see Ayer, p. 536.
JUSTINIAN'S POLICY 155
cesses restored to the empire for a time control of Italy and
North Africa. The church was now practically a department
of the state. Heathenism was suppressed and persecuted as
never before. While Justinian himself was, at first, strongly
Chalcedonian in his sympathies, his Empress, Theodora, leaned
to the Monophysite side. He soon gave up the persecution of
Monophysites with which his reign began. Himself one of the
ablest theological minds of the age, he sought to develop an
ecclesiastical policy that would so interpret the creed of Chal-
/cedon that, while leaving it technically untouched, would ex
clude any possible Antiochian or "Nestorian" construction,
thus bringing its significance fully into accord with the the
ology of Cyril of Alexandria. By this means he hoped to pla
cate the Monophysites, and also to satisfy the wishes of the
East generally, whether "orthodox" or Monophysite, without
offending Rome and the West too deeply by an actual rejection
of the Chalcedonian decision. Hence the establishment of a
Cyrillic-Chalcedonian orthodoxy was Justinian's aim. It was
a difficult task. As far as concerned a satisfaction of the Mo
nophysites in general it failed. In its effort to render the Cyril
lic interpretation of the creed of Chalcedon the only "ortho
dox " view it succeeded. Any form of Antiochianism was perma
nently discredited. By this result Justinian undoubtedly
satisfied the wishes of the overwhelming majority of the
"orthodox" East.
Justinian was greatly aided in his task by the rise of a fresh
interpretation of the Chalcedonian creed, in the teaching of a
monastic theologian, Leontius of Byzantium (c. 485-543). The
age was witnessing a revival of the Aristotelian philosophy,
and Leontius applied Aristotelian distinctions to the Chris-
tological problems. The feeling of much of the East, both
"orthodox" and Monophysite, was that the affirmation of
two natures in Christ could not be interpreted without involv
ing two hypostases — subsistences — and therefore being "Nes
torian." An explanation without these "Nestorian" conse
quences was what Leontius now gave. The natures might be
"intra-hypostatic" — ewTrdoraTo? — that is, there might be such
a hypostatic union that while the peculiarities of one nature
remained, it might find its hypostasis in the other. In Christ
this one hypostasis, which is that of both natures, is that of
the Logos. Thus Leontius would interpret the creed of Chal-
156 JUSTINIAN AS A THEOLOGICAL POLITICIAN
cedon in terms wholly consonant with the aim, if not with the
exact language, of Cyril. The human in Christ is real, but is
so subordinated that the ultimate reality is the divine.
Such an interpretation seemed, at the time, a quite possible
basis of reunion with the more moderate Monophysites, who
constituted their majority. The large section led by Severus,
Monophysite patriarch of Antioch (512-518), who, till his death
in 538, found a refuge in Egypt, held essentially the same posi
tion as Leontius. Their chief difference was that they regarded
the Chalcedonian Council and its creed with greater suspicion.
With the more radical Monophysites, led by Julian of Halicar-
nassus (d. after 518), the prospect of union was less auspicious.
They went so far as to hold that Christ's body was incorrupti
ble from the beginning of the incarnation, and incapable of
suffering save so far as Christ Himself permitted it. Its enemies
charged the theory of Julian with Docetic significance.
To meet this situation by establishing an anti-Antiochian,
Cyrillic interpretation of the creed of Chalcedon, and winning,
if possible, the moderate Monophysites, was the aim of Jus
tinian. He came to favor the so-called " Theopaschite " (i. e.,
"suffering God") formula of the Scythian monks, "one of the
Trinity suffered in the flesh," after a controversy lasting from
519 to 533. Because of monastic quarrels in Palestine, and
also because the Emperor's theological sympathies, like those
of his age, were exceedingly intolerant, Justinian condemned
the memory and teachings of Origen in 543. 1
Justinian's great effort to further his theological policy was
the occasion of the discussion known as that of the "Three
Chapters." In 544 Justinian, defining the issue by his own
imperial authority, condemned the person and writings of Theo
dore of Mopsuestia, now more than a century dead, but once
the revered leader of the school of Antioch (ante, p. 145), the
writings of Theodoret of Cyrus in criticism of Cyril (ante, p.
148), and a letter of Ibas of Edessa to Maris the Persian (ante,
p. 149). Theodoret and Ibas had been approved by the
Council of Chalcedon. The action of the Emperor nominally
left the creed of Chalcedon untouched, but made it impossible
of interpretation in any but a Cyrillic sense, condemned the
school of Antioch, and greatly disparaged the authority of the
Council of Chalcedon. The edict aroused not a little opposi-
i Ayer, pp. 542, 543.
JUSTINIAN AS A THEOLOGICAL POLITICIAN 157
tion. Pope Vigilius (537-555) disliked it, but the imperial
reconquest of Italy had placed the Popes largely in the power
of the Emperor. Between his knowledge of the feeling of the
West and his fear of Justinian, Vigilius's attitude was vacil
lating and utterly unheroic.1 To carry out his will, Justinian
now convened the Fifth General Council, which met in Constan
tinople in 553. By it the "Three Chapters," i. e., Theodore
and the writings just described, were condemned, the "Theo-
paschite" formula approved, and Origen once more reckoned
a heretic.2 Pope Vigilius, though in Constantinople, refused
to share in these proceedings, but such was the imperial pres
sure that within less than a year he acceded to the decision of
the council. The Cyrillic interpretation of the creed of Chal-
cedon was now the only "orthodox" understanding. The
action of the council was resisted for a few years in North
Africa; and the yielding attitude of the Pope led to a schis
matic separation of northern Italy from Rome which lasted
till the time of Gregory the Great, and in the neighboring
Illyricum and Istria even longer. One main purpose of the
condemnation of the "Three Chapters" — the reconciliation of
the Monophysites — failed. In Egypt and Syria Monophysit-
ism remained the dominant force, the real reason being that
these provinces were developing a native national conscious
ness antagonistic to the empire, for which theological differences
were the excuse more than the cause.
Under Justinian's successors, Justin II (565-578), and Ti
berius II (578-582), alternate severe persecution of the Mo
nophysites and vain attempts to win them occurred. These
efforts were now of less significance as the Monophysite groups
were now practically separated national churches. The native
Monophysite body of Egypt can hardly be given fixed date for
its origin. From the Council of Chalcedon the land was in
creasingly in religious rebellion. That church, the Coptic, is
still the main Christian body of Egypt, numbering more than
six hundred and fifty thousand adherents, strongly Monophy
site to this day in doctrine, under the rule of a patriarch who
still takes his title from Alexandria, though his seat has long
been in Cairo. Its services are still chiefly in the ancient
Coptic, though Arabic has to some extent replaced it. The
most conspicuous daughter of the Coptic Church is the Abys-
1 See Ayer, pp. 544-551. 2 Ayer, pp. 551, 552.
158 EGYPT, ABYSSINIA, SYRIA, AND ARMENIA
sinian. When Christianity was introduced into "Ethiopia"
is uncertain. There is some reason to think that its first mis
sionary was Frumentius, ordained a bishop by Athanasius,
about 330. The effective spread of Christianity there seems
to have been by Egyptian monks, about 480. The Abyssinian
Church stands to the present day in dependent relations to
that of Egypt, its head, the Abuna, being appointed by the
Coptic patriarch of Alexandria. It is Monophysite, and differs
little from that of Egypt, save in the backwardness of its cul
ture, and the great extent to which fasting is carried. It is
probably the lowest in civilization of any existing church.
While Egypt presented the spectacle of a united Monophy
site population, Syria was deeply divided. Part of its inhabi
tants inclined to Nestorianism (ante, p. 149). Some were
orthodox, and many Monophysite. The great organizer of
Syrian Monophysitism, after its persecution in the early part
of the reign of Justinian, was Jacob, nicknamed Baradseus
(?-578). Born near Edessa, he became a monk and enjoyed
the support of Justinian's Monophysite-disposed Empress,
Theodora. In 541 or 543 he was ordained bishop of Edessa,
and for the rest of his life served as a Monophysite missionary,
ordaining, it is said, eighty thousand clergy. To him Syrian
Monophysitism owed its great growth, and from him the Syrian
Monophysite Church, which exists to the present day, derives
the name given by its opponents, Jacobite. Its head calls
himself patriarch of Antioch, though his seat has for centuries
been in the Tigris Valley, where most of his flock are to be found.
They number abou-t eighty thousand.
Armenia during the first four centuries of the Roman Em
pire was a vassal kingdom, never thoroughly Romanized,
maintaining its own language and peculiarities under its own
sovereigns. Christian beginnings are obscure; but the great
propagator of Christianity in the land was Gregory, called the
Illuminator, who labored in the closing years of the third cen
tury. By him King Tiridates (c. 238-314) was converted and
baptized — Armenia thus becoming the first country to have a
Christian ruler, since this event antedated the Christian pro
fession of Constantine. Armenian Christianity grew vigor
ously. Never very closely bound to the Roman world, Ar
menia was in part conquered by Persia in 387. In the struggles
of the next century hatred of Persia seems to have turned
THE CHRISTOLOGICAL CONTROVERSIES 159
Armenia in the Monophysite direction, since Persia favored
Nestorianism (ante, p. 149). By an Armenian council, held in
Etchmiadzin (Valarshabad), in 491, the Council of Chalcedon
and the Tome of Leo were condemned, and the Armenian or
Gregorian Church — so named from its founder — has been ever
since Monopliysite. Armenians at present are wide-spread
throughout the Turkish empire and the adjacent portions of
Russia/ Armenians are believed to number not less than two
millions nine hundred thousand, of whom the greater part are
Gregorians. The Gregorian Church is now far the most im
portant and vigorous of these ancient separated churches of
the East.
The effect of the Christological controversies was disas
trous to church and state. By the close of the sixth century
the Roman state church of the East had been rent, and sepa
rated churches, Nestorian and Monophysite had been torn
from it. Egypt and Syria were profoundly disaffected toward
the government and religion of Constantinople — a fact that
j largely accounts for the rapid conquest of those lands by
4 Mohammedanism in the seventh century.
SECTION XI. CATASTROPHES AND FURTHER CONTROVERSIES IN
THE EAST
Justinian's brilliant restoration of the Roman power was
but of brief duration. From 568, the Lombards were press
ing into Italy. Without conquering it wholly, they occupied
the north and a large portion of the centre. The last Roman
garrisons were driven out of Spain by the Visigoths in 624.
The Persians gained temporary control of Syria, Palestine, and
Egypt between 613 and 629, and overran Asia Minor to the
Bosphorus. On the European side the Avars, and the Slavic
Croats and Serbs, conquered the Danube lands and most of
the Balkan provinces, largely annihilating Christianity there,
penetrating in 623 and 626 to the defenses of Constantinople
itself. That the empire did not then perish was due to the
military genius of the Emperor Heraclius (610-642), by whom
the Persians were brilliantly defeated, and the lost eastern
provinces restored. Before his death, however, a new power,
that of Mohammedanism, had arisen. Its prophet died in
Medina in 632, but the conquest which he had planned was
160 THE MONOTHELITE CONTROVERSY
carried out by the Caliphs Omar and Othman. Damascus
fell in 635, Jerusalem and Antioch in 638, Alexandria in 641.
In 651, the Persian kingdom was brought to an end. By 711,
the Mohammedan flood crossed the Strait of Gibraltar into
Spain, bringing the Visigothic monarchy to a close, and swept
forward into France, where its progress was permanently
checked by the Franks, under Charles Martel, in the great
V battle of 732, between Tours and Poitiers. In the East, Con
stantinople successfully resisted it, in 672-678, and again in
717-718. Syria, Egypt, and North Africa were permanently
taken by the Mohammedans.
Under such circumstances, before the final catastrophe,
efforts were naturally made to secure unity in the threatened
portions of the empire. After negotiations lasting several years,
in which the patriarch Sergius of Constantinople was the
leader, a union policy was inaugurated by the Emperor Hera-
clius, on the basis of a declaration that in all that He did Christ
acted by "one divine-human energy." Cyrus, the "orthodox"
patriarch of Alexandria, set up a formula of union, of which this
was the substance, in Egypt, in 633, with much apparent suc
cess in conciliating Monophysite opinion.1 Opposition arose,
led by a Palestinian monk, Sophronius, soon to be patriarch of
Jerusalem. Sergius was alarmed and now tried to stop any
discussion of the question. He now wrote, in that sense, to
Pope Honorius (625-638), who advised against the expression
"energy" as unscriptural, and said, rather incidentally, that
Christ had one will. Heraclius now, in 638, issued his Ekthesis,
composed by Sergius, in which he forbade discussion of the
question of one or two energies and affirmed that Christ had
one will.
It was easier to start a theological controversy than to end
it. Pope John IV (640-642) condemned the doctrine of one
will in Christ — or Monothelite heresy as it was called — in
641. Heraclius died that year, and was succeeded by Con-
stans II (642-668), who issued, in 648, a Typos, in which he
forbade discussion of the question of Christ's will or wills.2
The holder of the papacy was the ambitious Martin I (649-
655), who saw in the situation an opportunity not only to
further an interpretation of the theological problem consonant
with the views of the West, which had always held that Christ's
1 Ayer, pp. 661, 662. 2 Ibid., pp. 662-664.
THE SIXTH GENERAL COUNCIL 161
natures were each perfect and entire, but also to assert papal
authority in the Orient. He therefore assembled a great synod
in Rome in 649, which proclaimed the existence of two wills
in Christ — human and divine — and not only condemned Ser-
gius and other patriarchs of Constantinople, but the Ekthesis
and the Typos.} This was flat defiance of the Emperor. Con-
stans had Pope Martin arrested and brought a prisoner to
Constantinople in 653, where he was treated with great bru
tality. Martin had the courage of his convictions. He was
exiled to the Crimea, where he died. Strained relations be
tween Rome and Constantinople followed. Constans II was
succeeded by Constantine IV (668-685). By that time, the
Monophysite provinces, the retention of which had been the
source of the discussion, had been taken by the Mohammedans.
It was more important to placate Italy than to favor them.
The Emperor entered into negotiations with Pope Agatho
(678-681), who issued a long letter of definition as Leo I had
once set forth his Tome. Under imperial auspices a council,
the Sixth General Council, was held in Constantinople in 680
and 681. By it Christ was declared to have "two natural wills
or willings . . . not contrary one to the other . . . but His
human will follows, not as resisting or reluctant, but rather as
subject to His divine and omnipotent will." It also con
demned Sergius and other of his successors in the patriarchate
of Constantinople, Cyrus of Alexandria and Pope Honorius.2
For the third time Rome had triumphed over the divided
East in theological definition. Nicsea, Chalcedon, and Con
stantinople had all been Roman victories. It must be said,
also, that a human will was necessary for that complete and
perfect humanity of Christ as well as perfect divinity, for which
the West had always stood. The doctrine, thus defined, was
the logical completion of that of Chalcedon. With its defini
tion, the Christological controversies were ended in so far as
doctrinal determination was concerned.
While the Sixth General Council was thus a Western success,
it had a sort of appendix which was, in a sense, a Western
defeat. Like the council of the "Three Chapters" (553), it
had formulated no disciplinary canons. A council to do this
work was summoned by Justinian II (685-695, 704-711), to
meet in Constantinople in 692, and is called from the domed
1 Extracts, Ayer, pp. 664, 665. 2 Ayer, pp. 665-672.
162 THE IMAGE CONTROVERSY
room in which it assembled — which was that in which the
council of 680 and 681 had met — the Second Trullan Council,
or Concilium Quini-sextum, as completing the Fifth and Sixth
General Councils. It was entirely Eastern in its composition,
and is looked upon by the Oriental Church as the completion
of the council of 680 and 681 , though its validity is not accepted
by that of Rome. Many ancient canons were renewed; but
several of the new enactments directly contradicted Western
practice. It enacted, in agreement with Chalcedon, that
"the see of Constantinople shall enjoy equal privilege with the
see of Old Rome." It permitted marriage to deacons and pres
byters, and condemned the Roman prohibition of such mar
riages. The Greek Church still maintains this permission. It
forbade the Roman custom of fasting on Saturdays in Lent.
It prohibited the favorite Western representation of Christ
under the symbol of a lamb, ordering instead the depiction of
a human figure.1 Though not very important in themselves,
these enactments are significant of the growing estrangement in
feeling and practice between East and West.
The apparent collapse of the Eastern empire in the seventh
century was followed by a very considerable renewal of its
strength under the able Leo III, the Isaurian (717-740), to
whose military and administrative talents its new lease of life
was due. A forceful sovereign, he would rule the church in
the spirit of Justinian. He desired to make entrance as easy
as possible for Jews, Moslems, and the representatives of the
stricter Christian sects, such as the remaining Montanists.
They charged the church with idolatry, by reason of the wide
spread veneration of pictures. In 726, Leo forbade their further
employment in worship. The result was religious revolt.
The monks and common people resisted, partly from veneration
of images, partly in the interest of the freedom of the church
from imperial dictation. Leo enforced his decree by the army.
In most of the empire he had his will. Italy was too remote,
and there Popes and people resisted him. Under Pope Gregory
III (731-741), a Roman synod of 731 excommunicated the
opponents of pictures. The Emperor answered by removing
all of Sicily and such portions of Italy as he could from the
Pope's jurisdiction. Leo's able and tyrannous son, Constan-
tine V (740-775), pursued the same policy even more relent-
1 Ayer, pp. 673-679.
JOHN OF DAMASCUS 163
lessly. A synod assembled by him in Constantinople in 754
condemned pictures and approved his authority over the
church. In this struggle the papacy sought the help of the
Franks and tore itself permanently from dependence on the
Eastern Emperors. A change of imperial policy came, however,
with the accession of Constantino VI (780-797), under the
dominance of his mother, Irene, a partisan of pictures. By
imperial authority, and with the presence of papal delegates, the
Seventh and, in the estimate of the Greek Church, the last,
General Council now assembled in Nicrea in 787. By its de
cree pictures, the cross, and the Gospels " should be given due
salutation and honorable reverence, not indeed that true wor
ship, which pertains alone to the divine nature. . . . For the
honor which is paid to the image passes on to that which the
image represents, and he who shows reverence to the image
shows reverence to the subject represented in it." The
council seems to have been unconscious that much the same
thing could have been said by heathenism for its images.
Among the vigorous supporters of image-reverence was John
of Damascus (700?-753?), the most honored of the later theo
logians of the Eastern portion of the ancient church. Born in
the city from which he took his name, the son of a Christian
high-placed in the civil service of the Mohammedan Caliph,
he succeeded to his father's position, only to abandon it and
become a monk of the cloister of St. Sabas near Jerusalem,
His chief work, The Fountain of Knowledge, is a complete,
systematic presentation of the theology of the church of the
East. With little of originality, and much use of extracts from
earlier writers, he presented the whole in clear and logical form, ,
so that he became the great theological instructor of the Greek S
Church, and, thanks to a Latin translation of the twelfth cen- ^
tury, influenced the scholasticism of the West. His philosophi
cal basis is an Aristotelianism largely influenced by Neo-Platon-
ism. In the Christological discussion he followed Leontius
(ante, p. 155), in an interpretation of the Chalcedonian symbol
consonant with the views of Cyril. To him the death of Christ
is a sacrifice offered to God, not a ransom to the devil. The
Lord's Supper is fully the body and blood of Christ, not by tran-
substantiation, but by a miraculous transformation wrought by
the Holy Spirit.
1 Ayer, pp. 694-697.
164 CONSTITUTION OF THE IMPERIAL CHURCH
John of Damascus summed up the theological development of
the Orient, and beyond the positions which he represented the
East made practically no progress. Its contribution to the
intellectual explanation of Christianity was completed.
SECTION XII. THE CONSTITUTIONAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE
CHURCH
The acceptance of Christianity as the religion of the empire
gave to the Emperors a practical authority over the church.
By the time of Justinian, the Emperor declared, on his own
initiative, what was sound doctrine, and to a considerable
extent regulated churchly administration.1 The Emperors
largely controlled appointment to high ecclesiastical office,
especially in the East. This imperial power was limited, how
ever, by the necessity, which even Emperors as powerful as
Justinian felt, of securing the approval of the church through
general councils for statements of faith and canons of adminis
tration. The imperial support of these edicts and decisions of
general councils made heresy a crime, and must seriously have
limited freedom of Christian thought. It was a very narrow
path both in doctrinal opinion and in administration, that a
bishop of Constantinople, for instance, had to walk. If con
ditions were more favorable for the papacy (ante, pp. 134-136),
it was largely a consequence of the general ineffectiveness of
imperial control in Italy, though cases were not lacking where
the Popes felt the heavy hands of the Emperors.
As in the third century, the bishops continued to be the centres
of local ecclesiastical administration, and their power tended
to increase. By them the other clergy were not merely ordained,
but the pay of those below them was in their hands. The First
Council of Nicsea provided that other clergy should not remove
from a diocese without the bishop's consent.2 In each of the
provinces the bishop of the capital city was the metropolitan,
who, according to the synod of Antioch (341), should "have
precedence in rank . . . that the other bishops do nothing
extraordinary without him." 3 The ancient custom of local
synods, for the consideration of provincial questions was ex
tended, the First Council of Nicsea requiring them to be held
1 E. g., Ayer, pp. 542, 555. 2 Ayer, p. 361.
3 Ibid., p. 363.
THE CLERGY 165
twice a year.1 This metropolitan arrangement was fully in
troduced into the East by the middle of the fourth century.
In the West it was about half a century later in development,
and was limited in Italy by the dominance of the papacy.
Nevertheless it won its way in northern Italy, Spain, and Gaul.
Above the metropolitans stood the bishops of the great capitals
of the empire, the patriarchs, whose prominence antedated the
rise of ;the metropolitan system. These were the bishops, or
patriarchs, of Rome, Constantinople (by 381), Alexandria,
Antioch, and, by 451, Jerusalem.
By Constantine, the clergy were made a privileged class
and exempted from the public burdens of taxation (319).2 The
government, anxious not to lose its revenues through the en
trance into clerical office of the well-to-do, ordered that only
those "of small fortune" should be ordained (326). 3 The
result of this policy was that, though the ordination of slaves
was everywhere discouraged, and was forbidden in the East
by the Emperor Zeno in 484, the clergy were prevailingly re
cruited from classes of little property or education. The bril
liant careers of some men of talent and means, of whom Ambrose
is an example, show the possibilities then before those of high
ability who passed these barriers. The feeling, which had long
existed, that the higher clergy, at least, should not engage in
any worldly or gainful occupation, grew, and such works were
expressly forbidden by the Emperor Valentinian III in 452.
Such exclusive devotion to the clerical calling demanded an
enlarged support. The church now received not merely the
gifts of the faithful, as of old ; but the income of a rapidly in
creasing body of landed estates presented or bequeathed to it
by wealthy Christians, the control of which was in the hands
of the bishops. An arrangement of Pope Simplicius (468-483)
provided that ecclesiastical income should be divided into quar
ters, one each for the bishop, the other clergy, the up-keep of
the services and edifices, and for the poor.
The feeling was natural that the clergy should be moral ex
amples to their flocks. Celibacy had long been prized as be
longing to the holier Christian life. In this respect the West
was stricter than the East. Pope Leo I (440-461) held that
even sub-deacons should refrain from marriage,4 though it was
1 Aver, p. 360. 2 Ibid., p. 283.
3 Ibid., p. 280. 4 Letters, 145.
166 CATECHUMENS, CONFIRMATION
to be centuries before this rule was universally enforced in the
Western Church. In the East, the practice which still con
tinues was established by the time of Justinian, that only
celibates could be bishops, while clergy below that rank could
marry before ordination. This rule, though not without
advantages, has had the great disadvantage of blocking pro
motion in the Eastern Church, and leading to the choice of
bishops prevailingly from the ranks of the monks.
While the bishop's power was thus extensive, the growth of
the church into the rural districts about the cities, and of many
congregations in the cities themselves, led to the formation of
congregations in charge of presbyters, and thus to a certain
increase in the importance of the presbyterial office. These
congregations still belonged, in most regions, to the undivided
city church, ruled by the bishop; but by the sixth century the
parish system made its appearance in France. There the
priest (presbyter) in charge received two-thirds of the local
income, paying the rest to the bishop.
The incoming of masses from heathenism into the church
led, at first, to an emphasis on the catechumenate. Reception
to it, with the sign of the cross and laying on of hands, was
popularly regarded as conferring membership in the church,
and was as far as the great multitude of less earnest Christians
went in Christian profession, save in possible danger of death.
The growth of generations of exclusively Christian ancestry,
and, in the West, the spread of Augustinian doctrines of bap
tismal grace, brought this half-way attitude to an end. The
catechumenate lost its significance when the whole population
had become supposedly Christian.
In one important respect East and West fell asunder in this
period regarding rites connected with baptism. As already
described, by the time of Tertullian (ante, p. 96), baptism
proper was followed by anointing and laying on of hands in
token of the reception of the Holy Spirit. In Tertullian's age
both baptism and laying on of hands were acts of the bishop,
save in case of necessity, when baptism could be admin
istered by any Christian (ante, p. 97). With the growth of
the church, presbyters came to baptize regularly in East and
West. With regard to the further rite the two regions differed.
The East saw its chief significance in the anointing, and al
lowed that to be performed, as it does to-day, by the presbyter
PUBLIC WORSHIP 167
with oil consecrated by the bishop. The West viewed the lay
ing on of hands as the all-important matter, and held that that
could be done by the bishop alone1 as successor to the Apostles.
The rites therefore became separated in the West. " Confirma
tion" took place often a considerable time after baptism, when
the presence or the bishop could be secured, though it was long
before the age of the candidate was fixed in the Western
Church:
SECTION XIII. PUBLIC WORSHIP AND SACRED SEASONS
Public worship in the fourth and fifth centuries stood wholly
under the influence of the conception of secret discipline, the
so-called disciplina arcani, derived, it is probable, from con
ceptions akin to or borrowed from the mystery religions. Its
roots run back apparently into the third century. Under these
impulses the services were divided into two parts. The first
was open to catechumens and the general public, and included
Bible reading, singing, the sermon, and prayer. To the second,
the true Christian mystery, none but the baptized were ad
mitted. It had its crown in the Lord's Supper, but the creed
and the Lord's Prayer were also objects of reserve from those
uninitiated by baptism. With the disappearance of the cate-
chumenate in the sixth century, under the impression that the
population was all now Christian, the secret discipline came
to an end.
The public portion of Sunday worship began with Scripture
reading, interspersed with the singing of psalms. These selec
tions presented three passages, the prophets, i. e., Old Testa
ment, the epistles, the Gospels, and were so read as to cover
the Bible in the course of successive Sundays. The desirability
of reading appropriate selections at special seasons, and of
some abbreviation led, by the close of the fourth century, to
the preparation of lectionaries. In the Arian struggle the use
of hymns other than psalms grew common, and was furthered
in the West with great success by Ambrose of Milan.
The latter part of the fourth and the first half of the fifth
centuries was above all others an age of great preachers in the
ancient church. Among the most eminent were Gregory of
Nazianzus, Chrysostom, and Cyril of Alexandria in the East,
1 Acts 814-17.
168 THE LORD'S SUPPER
and Ambrose, Augustine, and Leo I in the West. This preach
ing was largely expository, though with plain application to
the problems of daily life. In form it was often highly rhetori
cal, and the hearers manifested their approval by applause.
Yet, while this preaching was probably never excelled, preach
ing was by no means general, and in many country districts,
or even considerable cities, few sermons were to be heard.
Prayer was offered before and after the sermon in liturgical
form. The benediction was given by the bishop, when present,
to the various classes for whom prayer was made, and the
non-baptized then dismissed.
The private portion of the service — the Lord's Supper —
followed. Both East and West held that, by divine power,
the miracle of the presence of Christ was wrought, but differed
as to when in the service it took place. In the judgment of the
East it was during the prayer known as the invocation, epiklesis.
This was undoubtedly the view in the West till late in the
sixth century. There, however, it was replaced, probably
under Roman influence, by the conviction that the Eucharistic
miracle occurred when the words of institution were recited,
culminating in " This is My body . . . this is the new covenant
in My blood." To Gregory of Nyssa and Cyril of Alexandria
the Supper is the repetition of the incarnation, wherein Christ
takes the elements into union with Himself as once He did
human flesh. The Lord's Supper was at once a sacrifice and a
communion. It was possible to emphasize one aspect or the
other. The East put that of communion in the foreground.
Consonant with its theory of salvation, the Supper was viewed
as primarily a great, life-giving mystery, wherein the partaker
received the transforming body and blood of his Lord, and
thereby became, in a measure at least, a partaker of the divine
nature, built up to the immortal and sinless life. This view
was far from denied in the West. It was held to be true.
But the Western conception of salvation as coming into right
relations with God, led the West to emphasize the aspect of
sacrifice, as inclining God to be gracious to those in whose
behalf it was offered. The Western mind did not lend itself
so readily as the Eastern to mysticism. In general, the Oriental
administration of the Lord's Supper tended to become a mys
tery-drama, in which the divine and eternal manifested itself
in life-giving energy.
CHRISTMAS 169
Beside the Sunday worship, daily services of a briefer char
acter were now very common, and had widely developed into
morning and evening worship.
The older festivals of the Christian year, Easter and Pente
cost, were, as earlier, great periods of religious observance.
Easter was preceded by a forty days' fast, though the method
of reckoning this lenten period varied. The Roman system
became -ultimately that of the whole West, and continues to
the present. The whole of Holy Week was now a time of
special penitential observance, passing over to the Easter re
joicing. By the fourth century the observance of Ascension
was general. The chief addition to the festivals of the church
which belongs to this period is that of Christmas. Apparently
no feast of Christ's nativity was held in the church till into
the fourth century. By the second century, January 6 had been
observed by the Gnostic disciples of Basilides as the date of
Jesus' baptism. At a time not now apparent, but probably
about the beginning of the fourth century, this was regarded
in the East as the time of Christ's birth also, by reason of an
interpretation of Luke 323, which made Him exactly thirty
years old at His baptism. Other factors were at work, how
ever. It was an opinion in the third century that the universe
was created at the vernal equinox, reckoned in the Julian
calendar as March 25. Similar habits of thought would make
the beginning of the new creation, the inception of the incarna
tion, fall on the same day, and therefore Christ's birth on the
winter solstice, December 25. That that date, when the sun
begins to turn, was the birthday of the Mithraic Sol Invictus,
was not probably the reason of the choice, though it may well
have commended it as substituting a great Christian for a
popular heathen festival. At all events, the celebration of
December 25 as Christmas appears first in Rome, apparently
in 353 or 354, though it may date from 336. From Rome it
spread to the East, being introduced into Constantinople,
probably by Gregory of Nazianzus, between 378 and 381. A
sermon of Chrysostom, preached in Antioch in 388, declares
that the celebration was then not ten years old in the East,
and the discourse was delivered, it would appear, on the first
observance of December 25 in the Syrian capital. It reached
Alexandria between 400 and 432. 1 From its inauguration,
1 Kirsopp Lake, in Hastings's Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics, 3601-8.
170 MARTYRS AND RELICS
Christmas became one of the great festivals of the church,
comparable only with Easter and Pentecost.
SECTION XIV. LOWER CHRISTIANITY
The beginnings of veneration of martyrs and of their relics
run back to the middle of the second century. Their deaths
were regularly commemorated with public services (ante, p.
93). With the conversion of Constantine, however, and the
accession to the church of masses fresh from heathenism, this
reverence largely increased. Constantine himself built a great
church in honor of Peter in Rome. His mother, Helena, made
a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, where the true cross was thought to
be discovered. Men looked back on the time of persecution
with much reason, as a heroic age, and upon its martyrs as the
athletes of the Christian race. Popular opinion, which had
long sanctioned the remembrance of the martyrs in prayer
and worship, had passed over, before the close of the fourth
century, to the feeling that they were to be prayed to as in
tercessors with God,1 and as able to protect, heal, and aid
those who honored them. There arose thus a popular Chris
tianity of the second rank, as Harnack has well called it. The
martyrs, for the masses, took the place of the old gods and
heroes. To the martyrs, popular feeling added distinguished
ascetics, church leaders, and opponents of heresy. There was,
as yet, no regular process of weighing claims to sainthood.
Inclusion in its ranks was a matter of common opinion. They
were guardians of cities, patrons of trades, curers of disease.
They are omnipresent. As Jerome expressed it: "They fol
low the Lamb, whithersoever He goeth. If the Lamb is present
everywhere, the same must be believed respecting those who
are with the Lamb." 2 They were honored with burning
tapers.3
Chief of all these sacred personages was the Virgin Mary.
Pious fancy busied itself with her early. To Irenseus she was
the second Eve (ante, p. 66). Yet, curiously enough, she did
not stand out pre-eminent till well into the fourth century, at
least in the teaching of the intellectual circles in the church,
though popular legend, as reflected for instance in the apocry-
1 Augustine, Sermons, 1591. 2 Against Vigilantius, 6.
3 Ibid., 7.
THE VIRGIN MARY 171
phal Protevangelium of James, had made much of her. Ascetic
feeling, as illustrated in Tertullian and Clement of Alexandria,
asserted her perpetual virginity. With the rise of monasticism,
the Virgin became a monastic ideal. The full elevation of
Mary to the first among created beings came with the Chris-
tological controversies, and the complete sanction of the de
scription "Mother of God/' in the condemnation of Nestorius
and the decision of the Councils of Ephesus and Chalcedon.
Thenceforth the Virgin was foremost among all saints in pop
ular and official reverence alike. To her went out much of
that feeling which had found expression in the worship of the
mother goddesses of Egypt, Syria, and Asia Minor, though in
a far nobler form. Above that was the reverence rightfully her
due as the chosen vehicle of the incarnation. All that martyr
or Apostle could do for the faithful as intercessor or protector,
she, as blessed above them, could dispense in yet more abundant
measure. In proportion, also, as the Cyrillic interpretation
of the Chalcedonian creed and Monophysitism tended to em
phasize the divine in Christ at the expense of the human, and
therefore, however unintentionally, put Him afar from men,
she appeared a winsome sympathizer with our humanity.
In a measure, she took the place of her Son, as mediator be
tween God and man.
The roots of angel-worship are to be found in apostolic times,1
yet though made much of in certain Gnostic systems, and
playing a great role, for instance, in the speculations of an
Origen, angels were not conspicuously objects of Christian
reverence till late in the fourth century. They were always
far less definite and graspable by the common mind than the
martyrs. Reverence for angels was given great furtherance
by the Neo-Platonic Christian mystic work composed in the
last quarter of the fifth century in the name of Dionysius the
Areopagite,2 and called that of Pseudo-Dionysius. Of all
angelic beings, the Archangel Michael was the most honored.
A church in commemoration of him was built a few miles from
Constantinople by Constantine, and one existed in Rome early
in the fifth century. When the celebration of his festival on
Michaelmas, September 29 — one of the most popular of medi
aeval feast-days in the West — was instituted, is uncertain.
It has already been pointed out that reverence for relics
1 Col. 218. 2 Acts 1734.
172 ANGELS, RELICS, PICTURES
began early. By the fourth century it was being developed
to an enormous extent, and included not merely the mortal
remains of martyrs and saints, but all manner of articles asso
ciated, it was believed, with Christ, the Apostles, and the
heroes of the church. Their wide-spread use is illustrated by
the statute of the Seventh General Council (787): "If any
bishop from this time forward is found consecrating a temple
without holy relics, he shall be deposed as a transgressor of
the ecclesiastical traditions."1 Closely connected with this
reverence for relics was the valuation placed on pilgrimages
to places where they were preserved, and above all to the Holy
Land, or to Rome.
Reverence for pictures was slower in gaining a foothold.
It seemed too positively connected with the ancient idolatry.
By the time of Cyril of Alexandria, however, it was rapidly
spreading in the Eastern Church, where it became, if anything,
more prevalent than in the West. The struggles ending in the
full authorization of pictures by the Seventh General Council
have already been narrated (ante, p. 163). Christian feeling
was that representation on a flat surface only, paintings, and
mosaics, not statues, should be allowed, at least in the interior
of churches, and this remains the custom of the Greek Church
to the present, though this restriction was not a matter of
church law.
This Christianity of the second rank profoundly affected the
life of the people, but it had also its heartiest supporters in the
monks, and it was furthered rather than resisted by the great
leaders of the church, certainly after the middle of the fifth
century. It undoubtedly made the way from heathenism to
Christianity easier for thousands, but it largely heathenized
the church itself.
SECTION XV. SOME WESTERN CHARACTERISTICS
While East and West shared in the theological development
already outlined, and Western influences contributed much to
the official decisions in the Arian and Christological contro
versies, there was a very appreciable difference in the weight
of theological interest in the two portions of the empire. The
West produced no really conspicuous theological leader between
1 Canon 7.
WESTERN CHARACTERISTICS 173
Cyprian (d. 258) and Ambrose (340?-397). Even Hilary of
Poitiers (300 ?-367) was not sufficiently eminent as an original
thinker to make a real exception. Both Hilary and Ambrose
were devoted students of the Greek Fathers— the latter espe
cially of the great Cappadocians. Though Tertullian was per
sonally discredited by his Montanism, his influence lived on in
the greatly valued Cyprian. While, therefore, Greek elements
entered largely into Western thinking, it developed its own pe
culiarities.
The western part of the empire was disposed, like Tertullian,
to view Christianity under judicial rather than, like the East,
under philosophical aspects. Its thought of the Gospel was
that primarily of a new law. While the West ^ did not deny
the Eastern conception that salvation is a making divine and
immortal of our sinful mortality, that conception was too ab
stract for it readily to grasp. Its own thought was that sal
vation is getting right with God. Hence, in Tertullian, Cyprian,
and Ambrose there is a deeper sense of sin, and a clearer con
ception of grace than in the East. Religion in the West had a
closer relation to the acts of every-day life than in the East.
It was more a forgiveness of definitely recognized evil acts, J
and less an abstract transformation of nature, than in the East
—more an overcoming of sin, and less a rescue from earthiness
and death. In the West, through the teaching of Tertullian,
Cyprian, and Ambrose, sin was traced to an inherited vitiation
of human nature in a way that had no corresponding parallel
in the East. There can be no doubt, also, that this Western
estimate of sin and grace, imperfectly worked out though it
yet was, combined with the firmer ecclesiastical organization
jbf the West, gave the Western Church a stronger control of the
" daily life of the people than was achieved by that of the East.
All these Western peculiarities were to come to their full fruition
"TfTthff work 'of Augustine.
SECTION XVI. JERtfME
Jerome was the ablest scholar that the ancient Western
Church could boast. Born about 340 in Strido in Dalmatia,
he studied in Rome, where he was baptized by Pope Liberius
in 360. Aquileia he made his headquarters for a while, where
he became the friend of Rufinus (?-410), the translator of
if.
174 JEROME
Origen, like Jerome to be a supporter of monasticism and a
monk in Palestine, but with whom he was to quarrel over
Origen's orthodoxy. Jerome had a restless desire to know the
scholarly and religious world. From 366 to 370 he visited the
cities of Gaul. The next three years saw him again in Aquileia.
Then came a journey through the Orient to Antioch, where he
was overtaken with a severe illness in which he believed Christ
Himself appeared and reproached him for devotion to the
classics. He now turned to the Scriptures, studying Hebrew,
and living as a hermit from 373 to 379, not far from Antioch.
Ordained a presbyter in Antioch, in 379, he studied in Constan
tinople under Gregory Nazianzus. The year 382 saw him in
Rome, where he won the hearty support of Pope Damasus
(366-384), and preached in season and out of season the merits
of the monastic life. Soon he had a large following, especially
among Roman women of position ; but also much enmity, even
among the clergy, for monasticism was not as yet popular in
the West, and Jerome himself was one of the most vindictive
of disputants. The death of Damasus made Jerome's position
so uncomfortable in Rome that he retired, in 385, to Antioch,
whither a number of his Roman converts to monastic celibacy,
led by Paula and her daughter, Eustochium, soon followed him.
With them he journeyed through Palestine and to the chief
monastic establishments of Egypt, returning to Bethlehem in
386, where Paula built nunneries and a monastery for men.
Here, as head of the monastery, Jerome made his headquarters
till his death, in 420.
Jerome's best use of his unquestionable learning was as a
translator of the Scriptures. The older Latin versions were
crude, and had fallen into much corruption. Pope Damasus
proposed to Jerome a revision. That he completed for the
New Testament about 388. The Old Testament he then trans
lated in Bethlehem, with the aid of Jewish friends. It is a
proof of Jerome's soundness of scholarship that, in spite even
of the wishes of Augustine, he went back of the Septuagint to
the Hebrew. The result of Jerome's work was the Vulgate,
still in use in the Roman Church. It is his best monument.
Jerome had, also, no small deserts as a historian. He con
tinued the Chronicle of Eusebius. His De Viris Inlustribus is
a biographical dictionary of Christian writers to and including
himself. He was an abundant commentator on the Scriptures.
AUGUSTINE'S YOUTH 175
He urged by treatise and by letter the advantages of celibacy
and of the monastic life. As a theologian he had little that
was original to offer. AHe was an impassioned defender of tra
dition and of Westerr? popular usage.^ A controversialist who
loved disputation, he attacked opponents of asceticism like
Jovinianus, critics of relic-reverence like Vigilantius, and those
who, like Helvidius, held that Mary had other children than
our Lord. He condemned Origen, whom he had once admired.
He wrote in support of Augustine against the Pelagians. In
these controversial writings Jerome's littleness of spirit is often
painfully manifest. Though deserving to be reckoned, as he
is by the Roman Church, one of its "Doctors," by reason of
the greatness of his learning and the use which he made of it,
the title "saint" seems more a tribute to the scholar than to
the man.
SECTION XVII. AUGUSTINE
In Augustine the ancient church reached its highest religious
attainment since apostolic times. Though his influence in the
East was to be relatively slight, owing to the nature of the
questions with which he was primarily concerned, all Western
Christianity was to become his debtor. Such superiority as
Western religious life came to possess over that of the East was
primarily his bequest to it. He was to be the father of much
that was most characteristic in mediaeval Roman Catholicism.
He was to be the spiritual ancestor, no less, of much in the
Reformation. His theology, though buttressed by the Scrip
tures, philosophy, and ecclesiastical tradition, was so largely
f rooted in his own experience as to render his story more than
usually the interpretation of the man.
Africa gave three great leaders to Latin Christianity, Ter-
tullian, Cyprian, and Augustine. Augustine was born in
Tagaste, in Numidia, now Suk Ahras in the Department of
Constantine in Algeria, on November 13, 354. His father,
Patricius, was a heathen of good position but of small property,
an easy-going, worldly character, who did not embrace Chris
tianity till near the end of life. His mother, Monnica, was a
Christian woman of high worth, eagerly ambitious for her son,
though the full radiance of her Christian life was to be mani
fested in her later years, developed through Ambrose and
176 AUGUSTINE'S YOUTH
Augustine himself. In Augustine there were two natures, one
passionate and sensuous, the other eagerly high-minded and
truth-seeking. It may not be wrong to say that father and
mother were reflected in him. From Tagaste he was sent for
the sake of schooling to the neighboring Madaura, and thence
to Carthage, where he pursued the study of rhetoric. Here,
when about seventeen, he took a concubine, to whom he was
to hold for at least fourteen years, and to them a son, Adeo-
datus, whom he dearly loved, was born in 372. If the sensuous
Augustine was thus early aroused, the truth-seeking Augustine
was speedily awakened. When nineteen, the study of Cicero's
now almost completely lost Hortensius "changed my affec
tions, and turned my prayers to Thyself, O Lord." 1 This im
perfect conversion caused Augustine to desire to seek truth as
that alone of value. He began to study the Scriptures, "but
they appeared to me unworthy to be compared with the dig
nity of Cicero." 2 He now turned for spiritual and intellectual
comfort to the syncretistic, dualistic system known as Mani-
chseism (ante, p. 107). He was willing to pray "Grant me chas
tity and continence, but not yet." 3
For nine years Augustine remained a Manichsean, living
partly in Carthage and partly in Tagaste, engaged in study and
teaching. He was crowned at Carthage for a theatrical poem.4
He gathered friends about him, of whom Alypius was to prove
the closest. As he went on he began to doubt the intellectual
and moral adequacy of Manichseism. His associates urged
him to meet the highly respected Manichsean leader, Faustus.
The inadequacy of Faustus's expositions completed his mental
disillusion. Though he remained outwardly a Manichsean,
Augustine was now inwardly a sceptic. By the advice of Man- ;
ichsean friends Augustine removed to Rome in 383, and by their
aid, in 384, he obtained from the prefect, Symmachus, a gov
ernment appointment as teacher of rhetoric in Milan — then
the Western capital of the empire.
Here in Milan, Augustine came under the powerful preach
ing of Ambrose, whom he heard as an illustration of pulpit
eloquence rather than with approval of the message, since he
was now under the sway of the sceptical philosophy of the
New Academy. Here Monnica and Alypius joined him. At
1 Confessions, 34. 2 Ibid., 3s.
AUGUSTINE'S CONVERSION 177
his mother's wish he now became betrothed as befitted his
station in life, though marriage was postponed on account of
the youth of the woman. He dismissed regretfully his faith
ful concubine and entered on an even less creditable relation
with another.1 It was the lowest point of his moral life. At
this juncture Aiigustine came in contact with Neo-Platonism,
(ante, p. 106), through the translations of Victorinus. It was
almost a: revelation to him. Instead of the materialism and
dualism of Manichseism, he now saw in the spiritual world the
only real world, and in God the source not only of all good,
but of all reality. Evil was no positive existence, as with the
Manichseans. It was negative, a lack of good, an alienation
of the will from God. To know God is the highest of blessings.
This new philosophy, which always colored Augustine's teach
ings, made it possible for him to accept Christianity. He was
impressed by the authority of the church, as a hearer of Ambrose
might well have been. As he said later, "I should not believe
the Gospel except as moved by the authority of the Catholic
Church." 2
A crisis in Augustine's experience was now at hand. He
had never felt more painfully the cleft between his ideals and
his conduct. He was impressed by learning of the Christian
profession made in old age, some years before, by the Neo-
Platonist Victorinus, whose writings had so recently influenced
him.3 A travelled African, Pontitianus, told him and Alypius
of the monastic life of Egypt. He was filled with shame that
ignorant men like these monks could put away temptations
which he, a man of learning, felt powerless to resist.4 Over
come with self-condemnation, he rushed into the garden and
there heard the voice of a child from a neighboring house, say
ing : "Take up and read." He reached for a copy of the epistles
that he had been reading, and his eyes fell on the words : "Not
in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wanton
ness, not in strife and envying ; but put ye on the Lord Jesus
Christ, and make not provision for the flesh to fulfil the lusts
thereof." 5 From that moment Augustine had the peace of
mind and the sense of divine power to overcome his sins which
he had thus far sought in vain. It may be that it was, as it
1 Confessions, 615. 2 Against the Epistle of Manichceus, 5 ; Ayer, p. 455.
3 Confessions, 82; Ayer, pp. 431-433. * Confessions, 88.
6 Romans 1313- " ; Confessions, 812 ; Ayer, pp. 435-437.
178 AUGUSTINE'S LATER LIFE
has been called, a conversion to monasticism. If so, that was
but its outward form. In its essence it was a fundamental
Christian transformation of nature.
Augustine's conversion occurred in the late summer of 386.
He resigned his professorship partly on account of illness, and
now retired with his friends to the estate named Cassisiacum,
to await baptism. He was far from being the master in the
ology as yet. His most characteristic tenets were undeveloped.
He was still primarily a Christianized Neo-Platonist ; but the
type of his piety was already determined. At Cassisiacum the
friends engaged in philosophical discussion, and Augustine
wrote some of the earliest of his treatises. At the Easter season
of 387 he was baptized, with Adeodatus and Alypius, by Am
brose in Milan. Augustine now left Milan for his birthplace.
On the journey Monnica died in Ostia. The story of her
death, as told by Augustine, is one of the noblest monuments
of ancient Christian literature.1 His plans thus changed, he
lived for some months in Rome, but by the autumn of 388 was
once more in Tagaste. Here he dwelt with a group of friends,
busied in studies much as at Cassisiacum. During this period
in Tagaste his brilliant son, Adeodatus, died. Augustine
thought to found a monastery, and to further this project went
to Hippo, near the modern Bona, in Algeria, early in 391.
There he was ordained to the priesthood, almost forcibly.
Four years later he was ordained colleague-bishop of Hippo.
When his aged associate, Valerius, died is unknown, but Augus
tine probably soon had full episcopal charge. In Hippo he
founded the first monastery in that portion of Africa, and
made it also a training-school for the clergy. He died on
August 28, 430, during the siege of Hippo by the Vandals.
Almost from the time of his baptism Augustine wrote against
the Manichseans. With his entrance on the ministry, and es
pecially as bishop, he was brought into conflict with the Dona-
tists (ante, p. 113), then wide-spread in northern Africa. This
discussion led Augustine to a full consideration of the church,
its nature and its authority. By the early years of his episco
pate he had reached his characteristic opinions on sin and
grace. They were not the product of the great Pelagian con
troversy which occupied much of his strength from 412 onward,
though that struggle clarified their expression.
1 Confessions, 910-12.
AUGUSTINE'S THOUGHT OF GOD 179
The secret of much of Augustine's influence lay in his mys
tical piety. Its fullest expression, though everywhere to be
found in his works, is perhaps in the remarkable Confessions,
written about 400, in which he gave an account of his experi
ences to his conversion. No other similar spiritual autobi
ography was written in the ancient church, and few at any
period in church history. It has always stood a classic of re
ligious experience. "Thou hast formed us for Thyself, and our
hearts are restless till they find their rest in Thee" (I1). "It
is good, then, for me to cleave unto God, for if I remain not in
Him, neither shall I in myself; but He, remaining in Himself,
reneweth all things. And Thou art the Lord my God, since
Thou standest not in need of my goodness" (711). "I sought
a way of acquiring strength sufficient to enjoy Thee; but I
found it not until I embraced that 'Mediator between God and
man, the man Christ Jesus/ 'who is over all God blessed for
ever' calling me" (718). "My whole hope is only in Thy ex
ceeding great mercy. Give what Thou commandest, and
command what Thou wilt" (1029). "I will love Thee, O Lord,
and thank Thee, and confess unto Thy name, because Thou
hast put away from me these so wicked and nefarious acts of
mine. To Thy grace I attribute it, and to Thy mercy, that
Thou hast melted away my sin as it were ice" (27). Here is a
deeper note of personal devotion than the church had heard
since Paul, and the conception of religion as a vital relationship
to the living God was one the influence of which was to be
permanent, even if often but partially comprehended.
Augustine's first thought of God was thus always one of per
sonal connection with a being in whom man's only real satisfac
tion or good is to be found ; but when he thought of God philo
sophically, it was in terms borrowed from Neo-Platonism. God
is simple, absolute being, as distinguished from all created things
which are manifold and variable. He is the basis -andv source
of all that really exists. This conception led Augustine to em
phasize the divine unity, even when treating of the Trinity.
His doctrine he set forth in his great work On the Trinity. It be
came determinative henceforth of Western thinking. "Father,
Son, and Holy Spirit, one God, alone, great, omnipotent, good,
just, merciful, creator of all things visible and invisible." 1
"Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, of one and the same substance,
1 Trinity, 7 : 612.
b
180 •; AUGUSTINE'S THOUGHT OF GOD
God the creator, the omnipotent Trinity, work indivisibly " (421).
"Neither three Gods, nor three goods, but one God, good, om
nipotent, the Trinity itself."1 Tertullian, Origen, and Atha-
nasius had taught the subordination of the Son and Spirit to
the Father. Augustine so emphasized the unity as to teach
the full equality of the "persons." "There is so great an
equality in that Trinity, that not only the Father is not greater
than the Son, as regards divinity, but neither are the Father and
the Son together greater than the Holy Spirit." Augustine
was not satisfied with the distinction "persons"; but it was
consecrated by usage, and he could find nothing more fitting:
"When it is asked, what are the three? human language labors
under great poverty of speech. Yet we say, three 'persons/
not in order to express it, but in order not to be silent." 3 It
is evident that, though Augustine held firmly to the ecclesias
tical tradition, his own inclinations, and his Neo-Platonic phi
losophy inclined toward the Modalistic Monarchian position.
It would, however, be wholly unjust to call him a Modalist.
He attempted to illustrate the Trinity by many comparisons,
such as memory, understanding, will,4 or the even more famous
lover, loved, and love.5
This sense of unity and equality made Augustine hold that
"God the Father alone is He from whom the Word is born,
and from whom the Holy Spirit principally proceeds. And
therefore I have added the word principally, because we find
that the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Son also."6 Eastern
remains of subordinationism and feeling that the Father is
the sole source of all, taught that the Holy Spirit proceeds from
the Father alone, but Augustine had prepared the way for that
filioque, which, acknowledged in Spain, at the Third Council
of Toledo, in 589, as a part of the so-called Nicene creed, spread
over the West, and remains to this day a dividing issue between
the Greek and Latin Churches.
In the incarnation Augustine emphasized the human as
strongly as the divine. " Christ Jesus, the Son of God, is both
God and man ; God before all worlds ; man in our world. . . .
Wherefore, so far as He is God, He and the Father are one ; so
far as He is man, the Father is greater than He." 7 He is the
1 Trinity, 8, Preface. 2 Ibid. z Ibid., 59.
4 Ibid., 1012. * Ibid., 92. 6 Ibid., 1517.
7 Enchiridion, 35.
MAN'S FALLEN STATE 181
only mediator between God and man, through whom alone
there is forgiveness of sins. "It [Adam's sin] cannot be pardoned
and blotted out except through the one mediator between God
and man, the man, Christ Jesus."1 Christ's death is the basis
of that remission. As to the exact significance of that death,
Augustine had not thought to consistent clearness. He viewed
it sometimes as a sacrifice to God, sometimes as an endurance
of our punishment in our stead, and sometimes as a ransom by
which men are freed from the power of the devil. To a degree
not to be found in the Greek theologians, Augustine laid stress
on the significance of the humble life of Jesus. That humility
was in vivid contrast to the pride which was the characteristic
note in the sin of Adam. It is an example to men. " The true
mediator, whom in Thy secret mercy Thou hast pointed out
to the humble, and didst send, that by His example also they
might learn the same humility."
Man, according to Augustine, was created good and upright,
possessed of free will, endowed with the possibility of not sin
ning and of immortality.3 There was no discord in his nature.
He was happy and in4 communion with God.4 From this
state Adam fell by sin, the essence of which was pride.5 Its
consequence was the loss of good.6 God's grace was forfeited,
the soul died, since it was forsaken of God.7 The body, no
longer controlled by the soul, came under the dominion of
"concupiscence," of which the worst and most characteristic
manifestation is lust. Adam fell into a state of total and hope
less ruin, of which the proper ending is eternal death.8 This sin
and its consequences involved all the human race ; " for we
were all in that one man [Adam] when we were all that man
who fell into sin." 9 "The Apostle, however, has declared
concerning the first man that 'in him all have sinned.'"10
Not only were all men sinners in Adam, but their sinful state
is made worse since all are born of "concupiscence." The
result is that the whole human race, even to the youngest in
fant is a "mass of perdition,"12 and as such deserves the wrath
of God. From this hopeless state of original sin "no one, no,
1 Enchiridion, 48. 2 Confessions, 1043. 8 Rebuke and Grace, 33.
4 City of God, 1426. 5 Nature and Grace, 33. 6 Enchiridion, 11.
7 City of God, 132. 8 Ibid., 1415. 9 Ibid., 13U ; Ayer, p. 439.
10 Romans 512 ; Forgiveness of Sins, I11. u Marriage, I27.
12 Original Sin, 34.
18
82 GRACE AND SALVATION
not one, has been delivered, or is being delivered, or ever will
be delivered, except by the grace of the Redeemer." 1
Salvation comes by God's grace, which is wholly undeserved,
and wholly free. "Wages is paid as a recompense for mili
tary service. It is not a gift ; wherefore he says l the wages of
sin is death, ' to show that death was not inflicted undeservedly,
but as the due recompense of sin. But a gift, unless it is wholly
unearned, is not a gift at all. We are to understand, then, that
man's good deserts are themselves the gift of God, so that when
these obtain the recompense of eternal life, it is simply grace
given for grace." 2 This grace comes to those to whom God
chooses to send it. He therefore predestinates whom He will,
"to punishment and to salvation." 3 The number of each class
is fixed.4 Augustine had held, in the period immediately fol
lowing his conversion, that it is in man's power to accept or
reject grace, but even before the Pelagian controversy, he had
come to the conclusion that grace is irresistible. The effect of
this saving grace is twofold. Faith is instilled, and sins, both
original and personal, are forgiven at baptism: "The faith by
which we are Christians is the gift of God." 5 As such it is-
immediate justification. But grace does much more. As with
Tertullian (ante, p. 69), it is the infusion of love by the Holy
Spirit. It frees the enslaved will to choose that which is pleas
ing to God, "not only in order that they may know, by the
manifestation of that grace, what should be done, but more
over in order that, by its enabling, they may do with love what
they know." 6 It is a gradual transformation of nature, a
sanctification. Through us, God does good works, which He
rewards as if they were men's own and to which He ascribes
merit. No man can be sure of his salvation in this life. He
may have grace now, but, unless God adds the gift of persever
ance, he will not maintain it to the end.7 It would seem that
Augustine may have been led to this conclusion largely by the
doctrine of baptismal regeneration. It is evident that if men
receive grace at baptism, many do not keep it.
This doctrine of grace was coupled in Augustine with a high
valuation of the visible Catholic Church, as that only in which
the true infusion of love by the Holy Spirit may be found.
1 Original Sin, 34 2 Enchiridion, 107. 3 Ibid., 100 ; Ayer, p. 442.
4 Ayer, p. 442. 5 Predestination, 3. 6 Rebuke and Grace, 3.
7 Gift of Perseverance, 1.
THE CHURCH AND THE SACRAMENTS 183
Replying to the Donatists, who were thoroughly "orthodox"
in doctrine and organization, and yet rejected the Catholic
Church as impure, because allowing the sacraments to be ad
ministered by men who may have been guilty of "deadly" sins,
Augustine said : "Those are wanting in God's love who do not
care for the uAity of the Church ; and consequently we are
right in understanding that the Holy Spirit may be said not
to be received except in the Catholic Church . . . whatever,
therefore, may be received by heretics and schismatics, the
charity which covereth the multitude of sins is the especial
gift of Catholic unity." 1 Sacraments are the work of God,
not of men. They do not, therefore, depend on the character
of the administrator. Hence baptism or regular ordination
need not be repeated on entering the Catholic Church. But
while those outside have thus the true and valid form of the
sacraments, it is only in the Catholic Church that the sacra
ments attain their appropriate fruition, for there only can that
love be found to which they witness, and which is of the essence
of the Christian life. Even in the Catholic Church, not all are
in the way of salvation. That is a mixed company, of good and
bad. "It is not by different baptisms, but by the same, that
good Catholics are saved, and bad Catholics or heretics perish."
To Augustine, sacraments include all the holy usages and rites
of the church. They are the visible signs of the sacred things
which they signify. Thus, he names as sacraments, exorcism,
ordination, marriage, and even the salt given to catechumens.
Baptism and the Lord's Supper are pre-eminently sacraments.
By the sacraments the church is knit together. "There can be
no religious society, whether the religion be true or false, without
some sacrament or visible symbol to serve as a bond of un
ion."3 Furthermore, the sacraments are necessary for salvation.
"The churches of Christ maintain it to be an inherent principle,
that without baptism and partaking of the Supper of the Lord
it is impossible for any man to attain either to the kingdom of
God or to salvation and everlasting life."^ Yet, by reason
of his doctrines of grace and predestination, the sacraments
for Augustine are signs of spiritual realities, rather than those
realities themselves. They are essential; but the verities to
which they witness are, whenever received, the work of divine
i Baptism, 316- ». ' /Wd., 528- 39.
8 Reply to Faustus* 19". * Forgiveness of Sins, I34.
184 THE CITY OF GOD
grace. He who does not " obstruct faith " may expect, however,
to receive the benefit of the sacrament.1 The problem was not
yet WTOiight out as it was to be in the Middle Ages; but Augus
tine may be called the father of the doctrine of the sacraments
in the Western Church.
Augustine's greatest treatise was his City of God, begun in
412, in the dark days after the capture of Rome by Alaric, and
finished about 426. It was his philosophy of history, and .his
defense of Christianity against the heathen charge that neg
lect of the 6ld gods under whom Rome had grown great was
the cause of its downfall. He showed that the worship of the
old gods had neither given Rome strength, virtue, nor assurance
of a happy future life. The loss of the old gods, that the wor
ship of the one true God should come, was not a loss, but a
great gain. Augustine then discusses the creation and the
origin and consequences of evil. That brings him to his great
theory of history. Since the first rebellion against God "two
cities have been formed by two loves : the earthly by love of
self, even to the contempt of God ; the heavenly by the love
of God, even to the contempt of self/'2 These had their rep
resentatives in Cain and Abel. Of the City of God, all have
been members who have confessed themselves strangers and
pilgrims on the earth. The Earthly City has as its highest
representatives heathen Babylon and Rome, but all other civil
states are its embodiment. It is a relative good. To it peace
and civil order are due. In a world of sin, though having love
of self as its principle, it represses disorder and secures to each
his own. But it must pass away as the City of God grows.
Those who make up the City of God are the elect whom God
has chosen to salvation. These are now in the visible church,
though not all in that church are elect. "Therefore the church
even now is the kingdom of Christ, and the kingdom of
heaven. Accordingly, even now His saints reign with Him,
though otherwise than as they shall reign hereafter; and yet,
though the tares grow in the church along with the wheat, they
(do not reign with Him." 3 The visible, hierarchically organ
ized church it is, therefore, that is the City of God, and must
more and more rule the world. In this teaching of Augustine
lay much of the philosophic basis of the theory of the mediaeval
A papacy.
1 Letters, 9810 ; Ayer, p. 450. 2 City of God, 1428. 3 IUd.t 209.
PELAGIUS'S TEACHINGS 185
It is evident that, clear as was the system of Augustine in
many respects, it contained profound contradictions, due to
the intermingling of deep religious and Neo-Platonic thoughts
and popular ecclesiastical traditionalism. Thus, he taught a
predestination in which God sends grace to whom He will, yet
he confined salvation to the visible church endowed with a
sacramental ecclesiasticism. He approached the distinction
made at* the Reformation between the visible and the invisi
ble church, without clearly reaching it. His heart piety,
also, saw the Christian life as one of personal relation to God
in faith and love, yet he taught no less positively a legalistic
and monastic asceticism. The Middle Ages did not advance
in these respects beyond Augustine. It did not reconcile his
contradictions. It is by reason of them that most various later
movements could draw inspiration from him.
SECTION XVIII. THE PELAGIAN CONTROVERSY
Augustine's most famous controversy, and that in which his
teachings on sin and grace came to clearest expression, was with
Pelagius and that teacher's disciples. Pelagius was a British,
or perhaps an Irish monk, of excellent repute, much learning,
and great moral earnestness, who had settled in Rome about
the year 400, when probably well on in years. He seems to
have been shocked at the low tone of Roman morals and to
have labored earnestly to secure more strenuous ethical stand
ards. Instead of being an innovator, his teaching in many
ways represented older views than those of Augustine. With
the East generally, and in agreement with many in the West,
he held to the freedom of the human will. "If I ought, I can,"
well expresses his position. His attitude was that of the popu
lar Stoic ethics. "As often as I have to speak of the principles
of virtue and a holy life, I am accustomed first of all to call
attention to the capacity and character of human nature and
to show what it is able to accomplish ; then from this to arouse
the feelings of the hearer, that he may strive after different
kinds of virtue." 1 He, therefore, denied any original sin in
herited from Adam, and affirmed that all men now have the
power not to sin. Like the Stoics generally, he recognized that
the mass of men are bad. Adam's sin set them an ill example,
1 Ayer, pp. 458, 459.
186 PELAGIUS'S TEACHINGS
which they have been quick to follow. Hence they almost all
need to be set right. This is accomplished by justification by
faith alone, through baptism, by reason of the work of Christ.
No man between Paul and Luther so emphasized justification
by faith alone. After baptism, man has full power and duty
to keep the divine law.
Pelagius won a vigorous follower in the much younger
Ccelestius, a lawyer, and possibly a Roman though he has been
claimed as an Irishman. About 410, the two went to North
Africa and called on Augustine in Hippo, without finding him.
Pelagius then journeyed to the East, while Coelestius remained
in Carthage and sought to be ordained a presbyter by Bishop
Aurelius. That bishop now received from Paulinus, a deacon
of Milan, a letter charging Coelestius with six errors. (1)
"Adam was made mortal and would have died whether he had
sinned or had not sinned. (2) The sin of Adam injured him
self alone, and not the human race. (3) New-born children are
in that state in which Adam was before his fall. (4) Neither
by the death and sin of Adam does the whole race die, nor by
the resurrection of Christ does the whole race rise. (5) The
law leads to the kingdom of heaven as well as the Gospel.
(6) Even before the coming of the Lord there were men with
out sin." l This was an unfriendly statement, but Coelestius
did not reject it; and it probably represents his views, which
may have been somewhat more radical than those of Pelagius.
An advisory synod in Carthage, in 411, decided against his
ordination. Coelestius then journeyed to Ephesus, where he
apparently received the desired consecration.
Augustine had not been present in Carthage, but he soon
heard of the matter, and at once began his long-continued
literary polemic against Pelagianism, which he found had
many supporters. Augustine's own religious experience was
deeply wounded. He believed that he had been saved by
irresistible divine grace from sins which he could never have
overcome by his own strength. He held Pelagius in error as
denying original sin, rejecting salvation by infused grace, and
affirming human power to live without sin. Pelagius did not
reject grace, but to him grace was remission of sins in baptism
and general divine teaching. To Augustine the main work of
grace was that infusion of love by which character is gradually
1 Ayer, p. 461.
AUGUSTINE AGAINST PELAGIUS 187
transformed. Pelagius found support in the East. Early in
415, Augustine sent Orosius to Jerome, then in Palestine, to
interest him for the Augustinian cause. By Jerome, Pelagius
was accused before Bishop John of Jerusalem, but was approved
by the bishop £ and before the year was out, a synod held in
Diospolis (Lydda^in Palestine) declared Pelagius orthodox.
In this situation Augustine and his friends caused two North
African synods to be held in 416, one for its local district in
Carthage and the other for Numidia in Mileve. These con
demned the Pelagian opinions and appealed to Pope Innocent
I (402-417) for confirmation. Innocent was undoubtedly
pleased at this recognition of papal authority, and did as the
African synods wished. Innocent died shortly after, and was
succeeded by Zosimus (417-418), a Greek, and therefore nat
urally no special sympathizer with the distinctive Augustinian
positions. To Zosimus, Coelestius now appealed in person.
The new Pope declared that the African synods had been too
hasty, and seems to have regarded Coelestius as orthodox. A
new synod met in Carthage early in 418, but the Africans made
a more effective move. In April, 418, at their instance the
Western Emperor, Honorius, issued a rescript condemning
Pelagianism and ordering the exile of its adherents. In May
a large council was held in Carthage, which held that Adam
became mortal by .sin, that children should be baptized for the
remission of original sin, that grace was necessary for right
living, and that sinlessness is impossible in this life. Moved
by these actions, Zosimus now issued a circular letter condemn
ing Pelagius and Coelestius.
Pelagius now disappears. He probably died before 420. A
new and able champion of his opinions now appeared in the
person of Bishop Julian of Eclanum, in southern Italy. An
edict of the Emperor Honorius, in 419, required the bishops of
the West to subscribe a condemnation of Pelagius and Coelestius.
Julian and eighteen others in Italy refused. Several of them
were driven into exile and sought refuge in the East. In Julian,
Augustine found an able opponent, and Pelagianism its chief
systematizer ; but a defender who was much more of a ration
alist than Pelagius. About 429 Julian and Coelestius found
some support from Nestorius in Constantinople, though Nes-
torius was not a Pelagian. This favor worked to Nestorius's
disadvantage in his own troubles, and together with the wish
188 DISSENT FROM AUGUSTINE
of the Pope led to the condemnation of Pelagianism by the
so-called Third General Council in Ephesus in 431 (ante, p.
148). Pelagianism, thus officially rejected in the West and the
East, nevertheless lived on in less extreme forms, and has al
ways represented a tendency in the thinking of the church.
SECTION XIX. SEMI-PELAGIANISM
Augustine's fame as the great teacher of the Western Church
was secure even before his death in 430. By no means all ac
cepted, however, the more peculiar portions of his theology,
even where Pelagianism was definitely rejected. Thus, Jerome
ascribed to the human will a share in conversion, and had no
thought of an irresistible divine grace, though deeming grace
essential to salvation. Northern Africa, which had led the
Western Church intellectually since the time of Tertullian, was
now devastated by the Vandals. Its pre-eminence in leader
ship now passed to southern France, and it was there that the
chief controversy over Augustinian principles arose. John
Cassianus, probably from Gaul, but who had journeyed to the
East, visited Egypt, and had served as deacon under Chrys-
ostom, founded a monastery and a nunnery in Marseilles about
415, and died there about 435. Not far from 429 he wrote his
Collationes, in the form of conversations with Egyptian monks.
In his opinion "the will always remains free in man, and it
can either neglect or delight in the grace of God." 1
In 434 Vincent, a monk of Lerins, wrote a Commonitorium,
in which, without attacking Augustine by name, his design
was to do so really, by representing Augustine's teachings on
grace and predestination as novelties without support in
Catholic tradition. "Moreover, in the Catholic Church itself
all possible care should be taken that we hold that faith which
has been believed everywhere, always and by all." 2 These
men and their associates were called in the sixteenth century
"Semi-Pelagians," though Semi-Augustinians would be more
correct, since they agreed in most points with Augustine,
though rejecting his essential doctrines of predestination and
irresistible grace. These were earnest men who sincerely feared
that Augustine's doctrines would cut the nerve of all human
1 12 ; Ayer, p. 469.
2 Quod ubique, quod semper, quod ab omnibus, 24; Ayer, p. 471.
THE SYNOD OF ORANGE 189
effort after righteousness of life, especially that righteousness
as sought in monasticism. Predestination and irresistible grace
seemed to deny human responsibility.
This dissent from Augustine appeared in still more positive
form in the writings of Faustus, abbot of Lerins, and afterward
bishop of Riez\ In his treatise on Grace, of about 474, he
recognized original sin, but held that men still have "the pos
sibility of striving for salvation." Grace is the divine promise
and warning which inclines the weakened but still free will to
choose the right rather than, as with Augustine, an inward
transforming power. God foresees what men will do with the
invitations of the Gospel. He does not predestinate them.
Though Faustus rejected Pelagius, he really stood closer to
him than to Augustine.
A more Augustinian direction was given to the thought of
southern France by the able and devoted Caes&ciiis (469?-542),
for a time a monk of Lerins, and from 502 onward bishop of
Aries. In 529 he held a little synod in Orange, the canons of
which received a much larger significance because approved
by Pope Boniface II (530-532). They practically ended the
Semi-Pelagian controversy, though Semi-Pelagian positions
have always largely been maintained in the church.1 It was
affirmed by this synod that man is not only under original sin,
but has lost all power to turn to God, so that "it is brought
about by the infusion of the Holy Spirit and His operation in
us that we wish to be set free." It is "by the free gift of grace,
that is, by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit," that we have
"the desire of believing" and "come to the birth of holy bap
tism." All good in man is the work of God. Thus many of
the main thoughts of Augustine were approved; but with a
decided weakening of emphasis. The irresistibility of grace
is nowhere affirmed. On the contrary, those in error are said
to "resist that same Holy Spirit." Predestination to evil is
condemned. But, most marked of all, the reception of grace
is so bound to baptism that the sacramental quality of grace
and the merit of good works are put in the foreground. "We
also believe this to be according to the Catholic faith, that grace
having been received in baptism, all who have been baptized,
can and ought, by the aid and support of Christ, to perform
those things which belong to the salvation of the soul, if they
1 Ayer, pp. 472-476.
190 GREGORY THE GREAT
labor faithfully." 1 Augustinianism was approved, but with
undoubted modification in the direction of popular " Catholic"
religious conceptions. Its sharp points were blunted.
SECTION XX. GREGORY THE GREAT
The tendencies toward a blunted, ecclesiastically and sacra-
mentally emphasized presentation of Augustinianism, which
have already been noted, characterized the thinking of Gregory
v/the Great, the interpreter of Augustine to the Middle Ages.
A teacher of little originality, he presented the theological sys
tem already developed in the West, in essential harmony with
the popular Christianity of his age. His influence was thus
far-reaching. He is reckoned with Ambrose, Augustine, and
Jerome one of the Doctors of the Latin Church. In adminis
trative abilities and achievements Gregory was one of the great
est of the Popes, and Latin Christianity generally had in him
a leader of broad vision and permanent accomplishment.
Gregory was born in Rome of a senatorial Christian family
about 540. Before 573 he was made prefect, or governor, of
the city by the Emperor Justin II. The monastic life attracted
him from civil distinctions, and by 574 he had devoted his
wealth to the founding of monasteries and to the poor, and
become a member of the monastery of St. Andrew in what
had formerly been his own home on the Cselian hill. Gregory
always retained his interest in monasticism, and did much for
the regulation and extension of the monastic life. His own
temperament was too active for the cloister, and in 579 Pope
Pelagius II (579-590) sent him as papal ambassador to the
court of Constantinople, where he served with ability, though,
curiously, without acquiring a knowledge of Greek. About
586 he was once more in Rome as the abbot of St. Andrew.
In 590 he was chosen Pope, being the first monk to attain that
office. He died on March 12, 604.
The time of Gregory's papacy was propitious for an able
Pope. The papacy, which had risen high under Innocent I
(402-417) and Leo I (440-461), had sunk in power after Jus
tinian had conquered the Ostrogoths and restored the imperial
authority in Italy. Since 568, however, the control of the
Emperors in Italy had more and more waned before the Lom-
1 Ayer, p. 475.
GREGORY THE GREAT 191
^bards, who threatened Rome itself. Though nominally sub
ject to the Emperor, Gregory was the real leader against Lom
bard aggression. He raised troops, defended Rome by force
and by tribute, even made a peace with the Lombards on his
own authority j and succeeded, after infinite effort and con
fused struggles both with the Lombards and the imperial rep
resentatives, in keeping Rome unconquered throughout his
.pontificate. He was the strongest man in Italy, and must
have seemed to the Romans and to the Lombards alike far
more a real sovereign than the distant and feeble Emperor.
The support of the papacy as well as the source of much of
the food of Rome was in its large estates, the Patrimony of
Peter, in Sicily, Italy, and even in southern France and north
ern Africa. Of these Gregory showed himself an energetic but
kindly landlord. Their management took much of his atten
tion. Their revenues increased, and Gregory employed this
income liberally not only in the maintenance of the clergy and
public worship, and in the defense of Rome, but in charitable
foundations and good works of all kinds.
Gregory was convinced that "to all who know the Gospel
it is apparent that by the Lord's voice the care of the whole
church was committed to the holy Apostle and prince of all
the Apostles, Peter." l He would exercise a jurisdiction over
the church as Peter's successor. As such, he protested against
certain acts of ecclesiastical discipline inflicted by the patriarch
of Constantinople, John the Faster; and announced that he
would receive an appeal. In the acts sent for his inspection
Gregory found John described as "universal bishop." Against
this claim for Constantinople he raised vigorous protest.2 His
own practice was the employment of the title still borne by the
Roman bishops, "servant of the servants of God." He exer
cised judicial authority with greater or less success in the
affairs of the churches of Ravenna and Illyria. He attempted
to interfere in the almost independent life of the church of
France, re-establishing the papal vicariate in Aries, in 595,
coming into friendly relations with the Frankish court, and at
tempting to remove abuses in French ecclesiastical adminis
tration.3 Here his success was small. With some good for
tune he asserted the papal authority in Spain, where the
Visigothic sovereign, Recared, had renounced Arianism in 587.
1 Letters, 520. 2 Ayer, pp. 592-595. 3 Ibid., pp. 591-592.
192 GREGORY'S THEOLOGY
Even more significant for the future was Gregory's far-reach
ing missionary campaign for the conversion of England, in
augurated in 596, of which some account will be given (p. 198).
It not only advanced markedly the cause of Christianity, but
was the initiation of a closer relationship of England, and
ultimately of Germany, with the papacy than had yet been
achieved elsewhere. Nearer home, among the Arian Lom
bards, Gregory inaugurated ultimately successful efforts to
turn them to the Catholic faith, especially through the aid of
Theodelinda, who was successively the Queen of Kings Authari
(584-591) and Agilulf (592-615).
Tradition has ascribed to Gregory a great work in the refor
mation of church music — the "Gregorian chants" — and in the
development of the Roman liturgy; but the absence of con
temporary reference makes it probable that his services in both
these respects were relatively inconspicious. On the other
hand, his abilities as a preacher were undoubted. As a writer
three of his works maintained high popularity throughout the
Middle Ages — his exposition of Job, or Moralia, his treatise on
the character and duties of the pastoral office, the Regula Pas-
toralis, and his credulous Dialogues on the Life and Miracles of
the Italian Fathers.
Gregory's theology is Augustinian, but with another em
phasis than that of Augustine. He developed all of Augus
tine's ecclesiastical tendencies, and that mass of material from
popular Christianity which Augustine took up into his system.
Miracles, angels, and the devil have an even greater part in
Gregory's system than in that of Augustine. While Gregory
held that the number of the elect is fixed, and depends upon
God, he had no such interest in predestination as had Augus
tine. He often speaks as if predestination is simply divine
foreknowledge. His interests were practical. Man is fettered
in original sin, the evidence of which is his birth through lust.
From this condition he is rescued by the work of Christ, re
ceived in baptism; but sins committed after baptism must be
satisfied. Works of merit wrought by God's assisting grace
make satisfaction. "The good that we do is both of God and
of ourselves ; of God by prevenient grace, our own by good will
following." : Penance is the proper reparation for sins after
baptism. It involves recognition of the evil of the sin, con-
i Moralia, 3321.
PURGATORY 193
trition, and satisfaction. The church has many helps for him
who would seek merit or exercise penance. Of these the great
est is the Lord's Supper, which Gregory viewed as a repetition
of the sacrifice of Christ, available for the living and the dead.
There is also the aid of the saints. "Those who trust in no
work of their pwn should run to the protection of the holy
martyrs." l For those who, while really disciples of Christ,
make an. insufficient use of these opportunities to achieve works
of merit, fail to do penance, or avail themselves inadequately
of the helps offered in the church, there remain the purifying
fires of purgatory.
The thought of purgatory was not new with Gregory. The
first faint intimation may be found in Hernias of Rome.2
With Cyprian it is more evident, and he cites in this connec
tion Matt. 526.3 Augustine, on the basis of 1 Cor. 311'15, argued
that purgatory was not improbable, though he felt no absolute
certainty regarding it.4 Csesarius of Aries held more definitely
to the conception. To him it was a fact. Gregory now taught
purgatory as a matter essential to the faith. "It is to be be
lieved that there is a purgatorial fire before the judgment for
certain light sins." 5 Though the Eastern Church held that an
intermediate state exists between death and the judgment,
and souls can be helped therein by prayer and sacrifice, its
conception of purgatory has always been vague compared with
that of the West.
Thus, in all departments of ecclesiastical activity Gregory
stood forth the most conspicuous leader of his time. In him
the Western Church of the Middle Ages already exhibited its
characteristic traits, whether of doctrine, life, worship, or or
ganization. Its growth was to be in the directions in which
Gregory had moved.
Contemporary with Gregory in part, and of significance as
the transmitter of much of the theological leaning of the an
cient church to the Middle Ages, was Isidore, the head of the
Spanish church from about GOO to 636, as bishop of Seville.
His Book of Sentences — brief statements of doctrine — was to
be the theological text-book of the Western Church till the
twelfth century. His Origins or Etymologies embraced well-
nigh the round of learning of his age, ecclesiastical and secular,
1 Moralia, 1651. 2 Vis., 37. 3 Letters, 51-5520.
* Enchiridion, 69 ; City of God, 21 26. 6 Dialogues, 439.
194 ISIDORE OF SEVILLE
and was a main source of knowledge in the Middle Ages of the
thought of antiquity. His value as a historian of the Goths and
Vandals was great. In him, as the most learned man of his
age, all the earlier Middle Ages were to find a teacher of little
originality but of remarkable breadth of learning.
PERIOD IV. THE MIDDLE AGES TO THE CLOSE OF
THE INVESTITURE CONTROVERSY
SECTION I. MISSIONS IN THE BRITISH ISLANDS
THE spread of Arianism among the Germanic tribes, the con
version of the Franks to the Roman faith, and the gradual
acceptance of Catholic orthodoxy by the Germanic invaders
have already been noted (ante, pp. 129-134). Much, however,
remained to be done. There is no more striking proof of the
vitality of the church in the collapsing empire and the opening
Middle Ages than the vigor and success with which it under
took the extension of Christianity.
Christianity had some foothold in the British Isles before
the conversion of Constantine. Bishops of York, London, and
probably Lincoln, were present at the Council of Aries in 314.
Yet it survived the downfall of the Roman Empire but feebly
among the Celtic population, while much of the soil of southern
and eastern England was won for heathenism by the Anglo-
Saxon invaders. Some slight Christian beginnings were to be
found chiefly in the south of Ireland before the time of Patrick;
but he so advanced the cause of the Gospel in that island and
so organized its Christian institutions, that he deserves the
title of the Apostle of Ireland.
Born about 389, possibly in southern Wales, Patrick was the
son of a deacon and the grandson of a priest. His training was
therefore Christian. Seized in a raid about 405, he was for six
years a slave in Ireland. Escaped to the Continent, Patrick
was for a considerable time an inmate of the monastery of
Lerins, off the southern coast of France. In 432 he was or
dained a missionary bishop by Bishop Germanus of Auxerre,
and began the work in Ireland which ended with his death in
461. Most of Patrick's missionary labors were in northeastern
Ireland, though not without some efforts in the south and
wilder west. Few facts survive; but of his zeal there can be
no question, and as little of his conspicuous abilities as an or
ganizer under whom the hitherto scattered Christianity of
195
196 IRELAND AND SCOTLAND
Ireland was systematized and made great advance. He
brought the island in some measure into association with the
Continent and with Rome.
It seems certain that Patrick introduced the diocesan epis
copate into Ireland; but that institution was soon modified
by the clan system of the island, so that there were, instead,
many monastic and tribal bishops. Monasticism was favored
by Patrick; but the great developer of the peculiar Irish
monasticism was Finian of Clonard (470?-548), under whose
leadership a strongly missionary and, for the time, a notably
learned group of Irish monasteries came into being. The
monastic schools of Ireland were justly famous in the sixth and
seventh centuries. The glory of this Irish monasticism was its
missionary achievement.
The beginnings of Christianity in Scotland are very obscure.
Ninian is said to have labored there in the fourth century and
the early years of the fifth, but of his date and real work little
can be said. Kentigern, or Mungo (527?-612?), who spread
Christianity in the neighborhood of Glasgow, is almost as dim
a figure. It would seem probable that the northern Irish
settlers who founded, about 490, the kingdom of Dalriada, em
bracing the modern Argyleshire, came as Christians. The
great missionary to Scotland was Columba (521-597), a man
closely related with some of the most powerful tribal families
of Ireland, and a pupil of Finian of Clonard. Distinguished
already as a monk and a founder of monasteries in Ireland, he
transferred his labors, in 563, to Scotland, establishing himself
with twelve companions on the island of lona or Hy, under the
protection of his fellow countryman and relative, the King of
Dalriada. There Columba developed a most flourishing monas
tery, and thence he went forth for missionary labors among the
Picts, who occupied the northern two-thirds of Scotland. By
Columba and his associates the kingdom of the Picts was won
for the Gospel. As in Ireland, Christian institutions were
largely monastic. There were no dioceses, and even the
bishops were under the authority, save in ordination, of Co
lumba, who was a presbyter, and of his successors as abbots
of lona.
These Irish missionary efforts were carried to northern Eng
land, among the Anglo-Saxons of Northumbria. There, on
the island of Lindisfarne, off the extreme northeastern coast of
MISSIONARIES OX THE CONTINENT 197
England, a new lona was established by Aidan, a monk from
lona, in 634. Thence Christianity was widely spread in the
region by him till his death in 651, and afterward by his
associates. Nor was the missionary zeal of these Celtic monks
by any means confined to the British Islands. Columbanus,
or Columba the Younger (543?-615), became a monk of the
celebrated Irish monastery of Bangor, which was founded in
558 by ;Comgall, a leader in learning and missionary zeal.
From Bangor, Columbanus set forth, about. 585, with twelve
monastic companions, and settled in Anegray, in Burgundy,
near which he planted the monastery of Luxeuil. Driven
forth about 610, in consequence of his prophet-like rebuke of
King Theuderich II and the King's grandmother, Brunhilda,
Columbanus worked for a brief time in northern Switzerland,
where his Irish companion and disciple, Callus, was to live as
an anchorite, and to give his name to, rather than to found, the
later monastery of St. Gall. Columbanus made his way to
northern Italy, and there established in. 614, in the Appenines,
the monastery of Bobbio, in which he died a year later.
Columbanus was onfy one of the earlier of a number of Irish
monks who labored on the Continent — many of them in what
is now central and southern Germany. Thus, Kilian wrought
in Wiirzburg and Virgil in Salzburg. One modification of Chris
tian practice, of great later importance, was introduced on the
Continent by these Irish monks, notably by Columbanus.
The entrance of thousands into the church when Christianity
was accepted by the state had largely broken down the old
public discipline. There had grown up the custom of private
confession among the monks of East and West. Basil had
strongly favored it in the East. Nowhere had it"more hearty
support than among the Irish monks, and by them it was ex
tended to the laity, as was indeed the case, to some extent, by
the monks of the East. The Irish on the Continent were the
introducers of private lay confession. In Ireland, also, grew
up the first extensive penitential books, in which appropriate
satisfactions were assessed for specific sins — though these books
had their antecedents in earlier canons of councils. These
penitential treatises the Irish monks made familiar on the Con
tinent.
Meanwhile, a work of the utmost significance for the religious
history of Britain and the papacy had been undertaken bv
198 ROMAN MISSIONARIES IN ENGLAND
Pope Gregory the Great. Moved by a missionary impulse
which he had long felt, and taking advantage of the favorable
situation afforded by the marriage of ^Ethelberht, "King"
of Kent and overlord of much of southeastern England, to a
Frankish Christian princess, Berhta, Gregory sent a Roman
friend, Augustine, the prior of his beloved monastery on the
Cselian hill, with a number of monastic companions, to at
tempt the conversion of the Anglo-Saxons. The expedition left
Rome in 596, but its courage was small, and all the persuasive
power of Gregory was required to induce it to proceed. It was
not till the spring of 597 that the party, reinforced by Frank
ish assistants, reached Canterbury. ^Ethelberht and many
of his followers soon accepted Christianity. Gregory looked
upon the struggle as already won. Augustine received epis
copal consecration from Vergilius of Aries in November, 597,
and, by 601, Gregory appointed Augustine metropolitan with
authority to establish twelve bishops under his jurisdiction.
When northern England should be converted a similar metro-
politanate was. to be established in York. London and York
were to be the ecclesiastical capitals. The British bishops,
over whom Gregory had no recognized jurisdiction, the Pope
committed to the superintendency of Augustine.1 The task
in reality was to prove much more arduous than it seemed to
Gregory's sanguine vision, and the greater part of a century
was to pass, before Christianity was to be dominant in Eng
land. Yet the movement, thus inaugurated, was vastly to
strengthen the papacy. The Anglo-Saxons owed their conver
sion chiefly to the direct efforts of Rome, and they in turn
displayed a devotion to the papacy not characteristic of the
older lands, like France and Spain, where Christianity had been
otherwise introduced. Anglo-Saxon Christianity was to pro
duce, moreover, some of the most energetic of missionaries
by whom the Gospel and papal obedience were alike to be
advanced on the Continent.
England was not brought to the acceptance of Christianity
without much vicissitude. The hegemony of Kent was wan
ing before the death of ^Ethelberht, and with it the first Chris
tian triumphs were eclipsed. Northumbria gradually gained
leadership. It was a success when Edwin, King of North-
1 Gee and Hardy, Documents Illustrative of English Church History, pp.
9, 10.
ROMAN AUTHORITY TRIUMPHS 199
umbria, was converted through the work of Paulinus, soon to
be bishop of York, in 627. The heathen King, Penda of Mercia,
however, defeated and slew Edwin in 633, and a heathen re
action followed in Northumbria. Under King Oswald, who
had become a Christian when an exile in lona, Christianity
was re-established in Northumbria, chiefly through the aid of
Aidan (ante, p. 197). It was of the Irish, or as it is often called,
the "Old British" type. Penda once more attacked, and in
642 Oswald was killed in battle. Oswald's brother, Oswy, like
him a convert of lona, after much struggle secured all of North
umbria by 651, and a widely recognized overlordship besides.
English Christianity was becoming firmly established.
From the first coming of the Roman missionaries there had
been controversy between them and their Irish or Old British
fellow Christians. The points of difference seem of minor
importance. An older system of reckoning, discarded in Rome,
resulted in diversity as to the date of Easter. The forms of
tonsure were unlike. Some variations, not now recoverable,
existed in the administration of baptism. Furthermore, as
has-been pointed out, Roman Christianity was firmly organized
4 and diocesan, while that of the Old British Church was monastic
and tribal. While the Old British missionaries looked upon
the Pope as the highest dignitary in Christendom, the Roman
representatives ascribed to him a judicial authority which the
Old British did not fully admit. Southern Ireland accepted the
Roman authority about 630. In England the decision came
at a synod held under King Oswy at Whitby in 664. There
Bishop Colman of Lindisfarne defended the Old British
usages, while Wilfrid, once of Lindisfarne, but won for Rome on
a pilgrimage, and soon to be bishop of York, opposed. The
Roman custom regarding Easter was approved, and with it the
Roman cause in England won the day. By 703 northern Ire
land had followed the same path, and by 718, Scotland. In
Wales the process of accommodation was much slower, and was
not completed till the twelfth century. In England this
strengthening of the Roman connection was much furthered by
the appointment, in 668, by Pope Vitalian, of a Roman monk,
Theodore, a native of Tarsus in Cilicia, as archbishop of Canter
bury. An organizer of ability, he did much to make permanent
the work begun by his predecessors.
The two streams of missionary effort combined to the advan-
200 FRANKISH CHURCH AND RULERS
tage of English Christianity. If that from Rome contributed
order, the Old British gave missionary zeal and love of learning.
The scholarship of the Irish monasteries was transplanted to
England, and was there strengthened by frequent Anglo-
Saxon pilgrimages to Rome. Of this intellectual movement a
conspicuous illustration was Bede, generally called the "Vener
able" (672?-735). An almost life-long member of the joint
monastery of Wearmouth and Jarrow in Northumbria, his learn
ing, like that of Isidore of Seville, a century earlier, embraced
the full round of knowledge of his age, and made him a teacher
of generations to come. He wrote on chronology, natural phe
nomena, the Scriptures, and theology. Above all, he is remem
bered for his Ecclesiastical History of the English Nation, a
work of great merit and the chief source of information regard
ing the Christianization of the British Islands.
SECTION II. CONTINENTAL MISSIONS AND PAPAL GROWTH
With the conversion of Clovis to orthodox Christianity
(496) (ante, p. 133), a close relationship of church and state be
gan in the Prankish dominions. To a large extent it was true
that Frankish conquest and Christianization were two sides
of the same shield. Under the descendants of Clovis — the
Merovingian Kings — the internal condition of the Frankish
church sank, however, to a low ebb. Bishops and abbots were
appointed for political considerations, much church land was
confiscated or put in secular hands. Even the efforts of Greg
ory I to gain more effective papal control in France and to
effect reform had little lasting result.
The political collapse of the Merovingians, led to the rise to
power of the Carolingian house, originally "mayors of the pal
ace," which was accomplished when Pippin, called, not wholly
correctly, of Heristal, won the battle of Tertry in 687. The
Merovingian Kings continued in name, but the real authority
was exercised by Pippin as "duke of the Franks." After his
death in 714, his illegitimate son Charles Martel (715-741) ex
ercised all the powers of a King. By him the Mohammedan
advance in western Europe was permanently stayed, by the
great battle between Tours and Poitiers in 732. He saw the
advantage of churchly aid, and supported missionary effort in
western Germany and the Netherlands, where he wished to ex-
BONIFACE AS A MISSIONARY 201
tend his political control. Yet neither Pippin "of Heristal"
nor Charles Martel were more helpful to the church of their
own territories than the Merovingians. They exploited it for
political reasons, secularized its lands, and did little to check
its disorders. Nevertheless, under Charles Martel a great mis
sionary and reformatory work was initiated that was to Chris
tianize large sections of western Germany, reform the Frankish
church, and bring the papacy and the Franks into relations of
the utmost consequence to both.
Willibrord (657?-739), a Northumbrian, began missionary
work in Frisia with the support of Pippin of Heristal, and, in
695, was consecrated a missionary bishop by Pope Sergius I—
an action which resulted in the establishment of the see of
Utrecht. His work had scanty success, and was taken up by
one of the ablest and most remarkable men of the period—
Winfrid or Boniface (680?-754). An Anglo-Saxon of Devon
shire by birth, Winfrid became a monk of Nutcell near Win
chester. In 716, he began missionary labors in Frisia, but
with such ill success that he returned to England. In 718 and
719, he was in Rome, where he received from Pope Gregory II
(715-731) appointment to labor in Germany. From 719 to
722, he wrorked in Frisia and Hesse, going once more to Rome
in the year last named, and receiving consecration as a mis
sionary bishop, swearing allegiance to the Pope.1 The next ten
years witnessed a great success in Hesse and Thuringia. Not
only were heathen converted, but the Irish monks were brought
largely into obedience to Rome. Gregory III (731-741) made
Boniface an archbishop in 732, with authority to found new sees.
After a third journey to Rome, in 738, he thus organized the
church of Bavaria, and a little later that of Thuringia. In
744, he aided his disciple, Sturm, in the foundation of the great
Benedictine monastery of Fulda, destined to be a centre of
learning and priestly education for all western-central Ger
many. Between 746 and 748, Boniface was made archbishop
of Mainz, which thus became the leading German see. In all
this Boniface strengthened the causes of order and discipline
Jand increased papal authority. His work was greatly aided
by the considerable numbers of men and women who came as
fellow workers from his native England, and for whom he
found place in monastic and other Christian service.
1 Robinson, Readings in European History, 1 : 105-111.
202 BONIFACE'S REFORMS
The death of Charles Martel in 741 saw his authority divided
between his sons Carloman (741-747), and Pippin the Short
(741-768). Both were far more churchly than their father,
and Carloman ultimately retired from power to become a
monk. While neither would abandon authority over the
Frankish church, both supported Boniface in the abolition of
its worst irregularities and abuses, and in a closer connec
tion with Rome. In a series of synods held under Boniface's
leadership, beginning in 742, the worldliness of the clergy was
attacked, wandering bishops censured, priestly marriage con
demned, and stricter clerical discipline enforced. At a synod
held in 747 the bishops assembled recognized the jurisdiction
of the papacy, though, as the civil rulers were not present,
these conclusions lacked the force of Frankish law. The Frank
ish church, thanks to the work of Boniface, was vastly bettered
in organization, character, and discipline, while, what was
equally valued by him, the authority of the papacy therein
was very decidedly increased, even though that of the mayor
of the palace continued the more potent.
As Boniface drew toward old age his thoughts turned toward
the mission work in Frisia, with which he had begun. He se
cured the appointment of his Anglo-Saxon disciple, Lull, as
his successor in the see of Mainz. In 754 he went to Frisia,
and there was murdered by the heathen, thus crowning his act
ive and widely influential life with a death of witness to his
faith. His work had been one for order, discipline, and con-
solidation, as well as Christian advancement, and these were
the chief needs of the age.
SECTION III. THE FRANKS AND THE PAPACY
It has already been pointed out (ante, p. 162) that the pa
pacy, and Italy generally, opposed the iconoclastic efforts of
the Emperor Leo III, going so far as to excommunicate the
opponents of pictures in a Roman synod held under Gregory
III, in 731. The Emperor answered by removing southern
Italy and Sicily from papal jurisdiction, and placing these
regions under the see of Constantinople — a matter long a thorn
in the side of the papacy. In Rome and northern Italy the
imperial power exercised from Constantinople was too feeble
to control papal action. The imperial representative was the
CORONATION OF PIPPIN 203
exarch of Ravenna, under whom stood a duke of Rome for
military affairs, though the Pope was in many respects the
Emperor's representative in the civil concerns of the city.
The papacy was now in practical rebellion against the rulers
who had their seat in Constantinople. It was, however, in a
most dangerous position. The Lombards were pressing, and
were threatening the capture of Rome. The disunion conse
quent pn the iconoclastic dispute made it necessary, if the
papacy was to maintain any considerable independence in
Rome, to find other protection against the Lombards than that
,of the Emperor. This the Popes sought, and at last obtained,
J from the Franks.
In 739 Gregory III appealed to Charles Martel for aid
against the Lombards, but in vain. With Pippin the Short it
was otherwise. He was more ecclesiastically minded, and
greater plans than even his father had entertained now moved
him. Pippin and the papacy could be of mutual assistance
each to the other. The new Lombard King, Aistulf (749-756),
conquered Ravenna from the Emperor in 751 and was griev
ously pressing Rome itself. Pippin desired the kingly title as
well as the kingly power in France. He had determined upon
a revolution which should relegate the last of the feeble Mero
vingians, Childeric III, to a monastery, and place Pippin him
self on the throne. For this change he desired not only the
approval of the Frankish nobility, but the moral sanction of
the church. He appealed to Pope Zacharias (741-752). The
Pope's approval was promptly granted, and before the close
of 751, Pippin was formally in the kingly office. To this he
was anointed and crowned, but whether by Boniface, as has
usually been supposed, is uncertain.
This transaction, which seems to have been simple at the
time, was fraught with the most far-reaching consequences.
From it might be drawn the conclusion that it was within the
Pope's powrer to give and withhold kingdoms. All unseen in
it, were wrapped up the re-establishment of the empire in the
West, the Holy Roman Empire, and that interplay of papacy
and empire which forms so, large a part of the history of the
Middle Ages. From this point of view it was the most impor
tant event of mediaeval history.
If the Pope could thus help Pippin, the latter could be no
less serviceable to the Pope. Aistulf and his Lombards con-
204 THE STATES OF THE CHURCH
tinned to press Rome. Stephen II, therefore, went to Pippin
himself, crowning and anointing Pippin and his sons afresh in
the church of St. Denis near Paris, in 754, and confirming to
them the indefinite title of "Patricians of the Romans" — all the
more useful, perhaps, because implying a relation to Rome that
was wholly undefined. It had been borne by the imperial
exarch in Ravenna. Soon after this crowning, Pippin fulfilled
his reciprocal obligation. At the head of a Prankish army,
late in 754, or early in 755, he invaded Italy and compelled
Aistulf to agree to surrender to the Pope Ravenna and the other
recent Lombard conquests. A second campaign, in 756, was
necessary before the Lombard King made good his promise.
The Exarchate of which Ravenna was the capital and the
Pentapolis were now the possessions of the Pope. The "States
of the Church" were begun — that temporal sovereignty of the
papacy which was to last till 1870. Yet, as far as can now
be judged, in thus granting the Exarchate to Pope Stephen,
Pippin regarded himself as overlord. Rome itself, Pippin did
not give to the Pope. It was not his to give. Legally, the
status of Rome would have been hard to define. Though the
Popes had practically broken with the Emperor at Constanti
nople, Rome had not been conquered from him. Indeed the
papacy recognized the sovereignty of the Eastern Emperor in
the style of its public documents till 772. Pippin had the
wholly nebulous rights that might be included in the title
"Patrician of the Romans." Actually, Rome was in the pos
session of the Pope.
Though the Pope was thus now a territorial ruler, the extent-
of his possessions was far from satisfying papal ambition, if'
one may judge by a curious forgery, the authorship of which-
is unknown, but which seems to date from this period — the
so-called "Donation of Constantine." l In charter form, and
with an expression of a creed, and a fabulous account of his
conversion and baptism, Constantine ordered all ecclesiastics
to be subject to Pope Sylvester and successive occupants of the
Roman see, and transferred to them "the city of Rome and all
the provinces, districts, and cities of Italy or of the Western
regions." This meant a sovereignty over the Western half
of the empire — at least an overlordship. Discredited by a few
of the wiser men of the Middle Ages, the "Donation" was gen-
1 Henderson, Select Historical Documents, pp. 319-329.
CHARLEMAGNE 205
erally believed, till its falsity was demonstrated by Nicholas .
of Cues in 1433 and Lorenzo Valla in 1440.
SECTION IV. CHARLEMAGNE
Pippin the Short died in 768. A strong ruler, his fame has
been unduly eclipsed by that of his greater son, who, in general,
simply; carried further what the father had begun. Pippin
had divided his kingdom between his two sons, Charles and
Carloman. Ill will existed between the brothers, but the
situation was relieved by the death of Carloman in 771. With
that event the real reign of Charles, to whom the world has
so ascribed the title "Great" as to weave it indissolubly with
his name — Charlemagne — began.
Charlemagne, perhaps more than any other sovereign in
history, was head over all things to his age. A warrior of great
gifts, he more than doubled his father's possessions. When
he died his sway ruled all of modern France, Belgium, and Hol
land, nearly half of modern Germany and Austria-Hungary,
more than half of Italy, and a bit of northeastern Spain. It was
nearer imperial size than anything that had been seen since
the downfall of the Western Roman Empire. Conquest was
but part of his work. His armies, by extending the frontier,
gave rest and time for consolidation to the central portion of
his territories. He was the patron of learning, the kindly mas
ter of the church, the preserver of order, to whom nothing
seemed too small for attention or too great for execution.
A quarrel with Desiderius, King of the Lombards, resulted
in the conquest and extinction of that kingdom by Charle
magne in two campaigns in the years 774 to 777. Pippin's
grants to the papacy were renewed, but the situation was
practically altered. The papacy was no longer separated as
it had been from the main Prankish territories by the inter
vening Lombard kingdom. Charlemagne's connection with
Rome was a much more effective overlordship than that of his
father, and he thenceforth treated the Pope as the chief prel
ate of his realm, rather than as an independent power, though
he did not go so far as to dictate the choice of the Popes, as he
did that of the bishops of his kingdom.
Highly important for the extension of Christianity was
Charlemagne's conquest of the Saxons, then occupying what
206 CHARLEMAGNE CROWNED EMPEROR
is now northwestern Germany — a result achieved only after
a series of campaigns lasting from 772 to 804. His forcible
imposition of Christianity was made permanent by the more
peaceful means of planting bishoprics and monasteries through-
out^the Saxon land. By this conversion the last considerable
Germanic tribe, and one of the most gifted and energetic, was
brought into the Christian family of Europe to its permanent
advantage. Frisia, also, now became a wholly Christian land.
Charlemagne's contests with the rebellious duke, Tassilo, of
already Christianized Bavaria, led not only to the full absorp
tion of the Bavarian bishoprics in the Prankish ecclesiastical
system, but to successful wars against the Avars and the ex
tension of Christianity into much of what is now Austria.
Such a ruler, devoted equally to the extension of political
power and of Christianity, and controlling the greater part of
Western Christendom, was, indeed, a figure of imperial pro
portions. It is not surprising, therefore, that Pope Leo III
(795-816), who was greatly indebted to Charlemagne for pro
tection from disaffected Roman nobles, placed on the head of
the Frankish King the Roman imperial crown as the latter
knelt in St. Peter's Church on Christmas day, 800. To the
thinking of the Roman populace who applauded, as to the West
generally, it was the restoration of the empire to the West,
that had for centuries been held by the ruler in Constan
tinople. It placed Charlemagne in the great succession from
Augustus. It gave a theocratic stamp to that empire. Un
expected, and not wholly welcome at the time to Charlemagne,
it was the visible embodiment of a great ideal. The Roman
Empire, men thought, had never died, and now God's consecra
tion had been given to a Western Emperor by the hands of
His representative. It was not, necessarily, a rejection of the
imperial title of the ruler in Constantinople. The later empire
had frequently seen two Emperors, East and West. Leo V
(813-820), the Emperor in Constantinople, later, formally
recognized the imperial title of his Western colleague. For
the West and for the papacy the coronation was of the utmost
consequence. It raised questions of imperial power and of
papal authority that were to be controverted throughout the
Middle Ages. It emphasized the feeling that church and
state were but two sides of the same shield, the one leading
man to temporal happiness, the other to eternal blessedness,
15 Long. 10 AVest 5
10 Long. 15 East
EUROPE
IN THE TIME OF
CHARLEMAGNE.
fruui 25 Greemv. 30
T>
LEARNING REVIVED UNDER CHARLEMAGNE 207
and both closely related and owing mutual helpfulness. It
made more evident than ever the deep-seated religious anoT
political cleavage between East and West. To the great Em
peror himself it seemed the fulfilment of the dream of Augus
tine's City off God (ante, p. 184) — the union of Christendom in
a kingdom of God, of which he was the earthly head. His
power was never greater than when he died, in 814.
At Charlemagne's accession no schools were so flourishing
in Western Europe as those to be found in connection with the
monasteries of the British Islands. It was from England that
this many-sided monarch procured his chief intellectual and
literary assistant. Alcuin (735?-804) was probably a native,
and certainly a student of York. From 781 to his death, with
some interruptions, he was Charlemagne's main aid in a real
renaissance of classical and Biblical learning, that rendered the
reign bright compared with the years before, and raised the in
tellectual life of the Prankish state. Charlemagne himself,
though without becoming much of a scholar, set the example
as an occasional pupil in this "school of the palace." In 796
Charlemagne made Alcuin the head of the monastery of St.
Martin in Tours, which now became under his leadership a
centre of learning for the. whole Frankish realm. Others
helped in this intellectual revival, like the Lombard, Paul the
Deacon (720?-795), the Frank, Einhard (770?-840), or the
Visigoth, Theodulf (760?-821). The mere mention of these
various national relationships shows the care which Charle
magne exhibited to secure from any portion of Western Europe
those who could raise the intellectual standards of his empire.
With this growth of learning came theological discussion.
The Spanish bishops, Elipandus of Toledo and Felix of Urgel,
taught an adoptionist Christology — that Christ, though in His
divine nature the Son of God, was in His human nature only a
son by adoption. Under Charlemagne's leadership these opin
ions were condemned in synods held in Regensburg (792) and
Frankfort (794). In this work Charlemagne regarded himself
as the theological guide no less than the protector of the church.
In similar fashion, at the synod of Frankfort just mentioned,
Charlemagne had the conclusions of the General Council of
787vin Nicsea (ante, p. 163), condemned, rejected its approval
of picture reverence, and caused the Libri Carolini, defending
his position, to be issued. In 809, at a synod in Aachen, Char-
208 ECCLESIASTICAL MODIFICATIONS
lemagne approved the Spanish addition filioque (ante, p. 180)
to the so-called Nicene-Constantinopolitan creed. All these
acts were in consultation with the bishops and theologians of
his realm, but with no special deference to the Pope or refer
ence of the matters to papal judgment.
SECTION V. ECCLESIASTICAL INSTITUTIONS
Roman political institutions were based on the cities, on which
the surrounding country was dependent, and Christian organ
ization followed the same rule. The country districts were
dependent upon and were cared for by the city bishops and
their appointees, save where, in the East, there were "country
bishops." The Germanic invasions altered this situation.
By the sixth century the beginnings of the parish system were
to be found in France (ante, p. 166). There it rapidly grew,
and it was stimulated by the custom of the foundation of
churches by large landowners. The founders and their heirs
retained the right of nominating the incumbent. This situa
tion left episcopal control uncertain. Charlemagne, there
fore, provided that besides the right of ordination of all parish
priests, the bishop should have visitorial and disciplinary power
throughout his diocese. The churchly status was further
strengthened by the full legal establishment of tithes. Long
favored by the clergy through Old Testament example, they
were demanded by a Frankish synod in Macon, in 585. By
Pippin they were treated as a legal charge, and full legal sanc
tion was given them by Charlemagne. They were to be col
lected not only by bishops, but by and for the use of the incum
bent of each parish. Moreover, constant gifts of lands to the
church had raised ecclesiastical possessions, by the time of the
early Carolingians, to a third of the soil of France. The great
holdings were a constant temptation in the financial need of a
Charles Martel, who secularized much, but under the friendly
government of Charlemagne they were respected, if earlier
confiscations were not restored.
Under Charlemagne, preaching was encouraged and books of
sermons prepared. Confession was favored, though not yet
obligatory. Every Christian was expected to be able to repeat
the Lord's Prayer and the Apostles' Creed.
Charlemagne renewed and extended the metropolitan system,
METROPOLITANS AND ARCHBISHOPS 209
which had fallen into abeyance. At the beginning of his reign
there was but one metropolitan in the Prankish kingdom. At
its end there were twenty-two. These were now generally
known as archbishops — a title which goes back to the time of
Athanasius, though long loosely used. In Carolingian theory
the archbishop was the judge and disciplinary officer of the
bishops of his province, possessed of powers which the growth
of papal jurisdiction was soon to curtail. It was also his duty
to call frequent synods to consider the religious problems of
the archdiocese, or as it was usually styled, the province.
For the better regulation of his immediate clerical assistants,
Bishop Chrodegang of Metz introduced, about 760, a semi-
monastic life in common, which was favored and spread by
Charlemagne. From the designation of this life as the vita
canonica, the name "canons" for the clergy attached to a cathe
dral or collegiate church arose. Their place of meeting was
called the capitulum, or chapter — a title soon applied to the
canons themselves. By this means the life and work of the
bishop and his immediately associated clergy was largely
regulated. Charlemagne himself designated the bishops of
his realm.
In all these changes, save that of personal authority over
episcopal appointments, Charlemagne was but carrying further
the reforms begun by Boniface. Much that he completed
his father, Pippin, had commenced. At Charlemagne's death,
the Prankish church was in a far better state of education, dis
cipline, and efficiency than it had been under the later Mero
vingians and early Carolingians.
SECTION VI. COLLAPSING EMPIRE AND RISING PAPACY
Charlemagne's great power was personal. Scarcely had he
died when the rapid decline of his empire began. His son and
successor, Louis the Pious (814-840), was of excellent personal
character, but wholly unequal to the task left by Charlemagne,
or even to the control of his own sons, who plotted against him
and quarrelled with one another. After his death they divided
the empire between them by the Treaty of Verdun in 843. To
Lothair (843-855) came Prankish Italy and a strip of territory
including the valley of the Rhone and the region: lying immedi
ately west of the Rhine, together with the imperial title. To
210 THE COLLAPSE OF THE EMPIRE
Louis (843-875) was given the region east of the Rhine, whence
he acquired the nickname, " the German." To Charles the Bald
(843-877) came most of modern France and ultimately the im
perial crown. This Treaty of Verdun is usually regarded as the
point whence France and Germany go their separate ways.
These rulers proved utterly inadequate for unity or defense.
France suffered grievously from attacks by the Scandinavian
Normans, who pushed up its rivers and burned its towns, ulti
mately (911) establishing themselves permanently in Nor
mandy. Italy was a prey to Saracen raids, in one of which
(841) St. Peter's itself, in Rome, was plundered. A little later,
with the beginning of the tenth century, the raids of the Hun
garians brought devastation to Germany and Italy. Under
these circumstances, when national unity or defense was im
possible, feudalism developed with great rapidity. Its roots
run back to the declining days of the Roman Empire, but with
the death of Charlemagne it was given great impetus. It was
intensely divisive, substituting for any strong central govern
ment many local seats of authority, jealous one of another and
engaged in constant struggle. Churches and monasteries be
came largely the prey of local nobles, or defended their rights
with difficulty as parts of the feudal system. This social and
political form of organization was to dominate Europe till the
thirteenth century, and largely to make possible the growth of
the mediaeval papacy.
The impulse given to learning by Charlemagne did not imme
diately die. At the court of Charles the Bald, John Scotus
(?-877?), to whom the name Erigena was much later added,
held somewhat the same position that Alcuin had occupied un
der Charlemagne. He translated the much admired writings of
the Pseudo-Dionysius (ante, p. 171), and developed his own Neo-
Platonic philosophy, which his age was too ignorant to judge
heretical or orthodox. In Germany, Hrabanus Maurus (776 ?-
856), abbot of Fulda and archbishop of Mainz, a pupil of Alcuin,
attained a deserved reputation as a teacher, commentator on
the Scriptures, furtherer of clerical education and author of
what was well-nigh an encyclopaedia. In Hincmar (805?-882),
archbishop of Rheims, France possessed not only a prelate of
great assertiveness and influence, but a theological controversial
ist of decided gift.
The renewed study of Augustine which this intellectual
DOCTRINAL CONTROVERSIES 211
revival effected led to two doctrinal controversies. The first
was regarding the nature of Christ's presence in the Supper.
About 831 Paschasius Iladbertus, a monk of the monastery of
Corbie, near Amiens, of Remarkable learning in Greek as well as
in Latin theology, set forth the first thoroughgoing treatise
on the Lord's Supper, De corpore et sanguine Domini. In it
he taught with Augustine, that only those who partake in faith
receive the virtue of the sacrament, and with the Greeks, that
it is the food of immortality; and also, that by divine miracle
the substance is made the very body and blood of Christ. That
was transubstantiation, though the word was not to be coined
before the twelfth century. To Iladbertus, Hrabanus Maurus
replied; but a more elaborate answer was that of a fellow
monk of Corbie, Ratramnus, about 844. Yet his view agreed
in much with that of Radbertus. The body and blood of
Christ are mysteriously present; yet they are not identical with
the body that suffered on the cross. The controversy was not
decided at the time, but the future, in the Roman Church, was
with Radbertus.
The second controversy was aroused by Gottschalk (808?-
868?). A monk of Fulda, made so by parental dedication, his
efforts for release from his bonds were frustrated by Hrabanus
Maurus. He then turned to the study of Augustine, and his
hard fate, perhaps, led him to emphasize a double divine pre
destination — to life or to death. He was attacked by Hrabanus
Maurus and Hincmar, but found vigorous defenders. Con
demned as a heretic at a synod in Mainz in 848, he spent the
next twenty years in monastic imprisonment, persecuted by
Hincmar, and refusing to retract. The controversy was a
fresh flaring up of the old dispute between thoroughgoing
Augustinianism and the semi-Pelagianism which was the actual
theory of a large portion of the church.
As the collapse of Charlemagne's empire grew more complete,
however, these controversies and the intellectual life out of
which they sprang faded. By 900 a renewed barbarism had
largely extinguished the light which had shone brightly a
century before. One great exception to this general condition
existed. In England, Alfred the Great (871-901?), distin
guished as the successful opponent of the Danish conquerors,
in a spirit like that of Charlemagne gathered learned men about
him, and encouraged the education of the clergy.
212 THE PSEUDO-ISIDORIAN DECRETALS
The collapsing empire of Charlemagne led to the rise of a
churchly party in France, which despairing of help from the
state, looked toward the papacy as the source of unity and hope.
This party regarded with suspicion also any control of the
church by the sovereigns or nobility, and it represented the
jealousy of the ordinary bishops and lower clergy toward the
great archbishops with their often arbitrary assertions of au
thority, of whom Hincmar was a conspicuous example. The
aim of the movement was not the exaltation of the papacy for
its own sake; rather its exaltation as a means of checking sec
ular control and that of the archbishops, and of maintaining
ecclesiastical unity. From this circle, between 847 and 852,
and probably from Hincmar's own region of Rheims, came one
of the most remarkable of forgeries — the so-called Pseudo-
Isidorian Decretals — purporting to be collected by a certain
Isidore Mercator, by whom Isidore of Seville (ante, p. 193) and
Marius Mercator were doubtless intended. It consisted of
decisions of Popes and councils from Clement of Rome in the
first century to Gregory II in the eighth, part genuine and part
forged. The "Donation of Constantine" (ante, p. 204) is
included. The early Popes therein claim for themselves su
preme jurisdiction. All bishops may appeal directly to papal
authority. Intervening archiepiscopal rights are limited, and
neither papacy nor bishops are subject to secular control. With
its origin the papacy had nothing to do; but it was to be used
mightily to the furtherance of papal claims. The age was un
critical. It passed immediately as genuine, and was not ex
posed till the Reformation had awakened historical study.
With the decline of imperial power, the independence of the
papacy rapidly rose. The Popes showed themselves the strong
est men in Italy. Leo IV (847-855), aided by south Italian
cities, defeated the Saracens and surrounded the quarter of
St. Peter's in Rome with a wall — the "Leonine City." In
Nicholas I (858-867) the Roman see had its ablest and most
assertive occupant between Gregory the Great and Hildebrand.
He sketched out a programme of papal claims, hardly surpassed
later, but which the papacy was to be centuries in achieving.
Nicholas attempted to realize the ideals of Augustine's City of
God. In his thought, the church is superior to all earthly
powers, the ruler of the whole church is the Pope, and the bish
ops are his agents. These conceptions he was able to make
PAPACY ADVANCED BY NICHOLAS I 213
effective in two notable cases, in which he had also the advan
tage of choosing the side on which right lay. The first was
that of Thietberga, the injured wife of Lothair II of Lorraine.
Divorced that that sovereign might marry his concubine, Wal-
drada, she appealed to Nicholas, who declared void the sanc
tioning decision of a synod held in Metz, in 863, and excom
municated the archbishops of Trier and Cologne who had
supported Lothair. The Pope had defended helpless woman
hood, he none the less humbled two of the most powerful
German prelates and thwarted a German ruler. In the second
case, Nicholas received the appeal of the deposed Bishop
Rothad of Soissons, who had been removed by the overbearing
Archbishop Hincmar of Rheims, and forced his restoration.
Here Nicholas appeared as the protector of the bishops against
their metropolitans and the defender of their right to appeal
to the Pope as the final judge. In this quarrel the Pseudo-
Isidorian Decretals were first employed in Rome.
In a third case, Nicholas, though having right on his side,
was less successful. The Emperor in Constantinople, Michael
III, " the Drunkard," was ruled by his uncle, Bardas, a man of
unsavory reputation. The patriarch, Ignatius, refused Bardas
the sacrament, and was deposed. In his place, Bardas pro
cured the appointment of one of the most learned men of
the later Greek world, Photius (patriarch 858-867, 878-886),
then a layman. Ignatius, thus injured, appealed to Nicholas,
who sent legates to Constantinople. They joined in approval
of Photius. The Pope repudiated their action, and, in 863, de
clared Photius deposed. Photius now accused the Western
Church of heresy for admitting ihefilioque clause to the creed,
fasting on Saturdays, using milk, butter, and cheese in Lent,
demanding priestly celibacy, and confining confirmation to the
bishops. At a synod under his leadership in Constantinople,
in 867, the Pope was condemned. Nicholas failed in his
attempt to exercise his authority over the Eastern Church.
The ill feeling between East and West was but augmented,
which was to lead, in 1054, to the complete separation of the
churches.
During this period following the death of Charlemagne im
portant missionary efforts were begun. Ansgar (801?-865),
a monk of Corbie, entered Denmark in 826, but was driven out
the next year. In 829 and 830 he labored in Sweden. In 831
214 MISSIONS IN EUROPE
he was appointed archbishop of the newly constituted see of
Hamburg, with prospective missionary jurisdiction over Den
mark, Norway, and Sweden. The destruction of Hamburg
by the Danes, in 845, resulted in Ansgar's removal to Bremen,
which was united ecclesiastically with Hamburg. Ansgar's
efforts were backed by no Frankish military force, and his pa
tient labors accomplished little. The full Christianization of
Scandinavia was yet in the future.
Larger success attended missions in the East. The Bulgars,
originally a Turanian people, from eastern Russia, had con
quered a large territory in the Balkan region in the seventh
century, and, in turn, had adopted the manners and speech
of their Slavic subjects. Under their King, Boris (852-884),
Christianity was introduced, Boris being baptized in 864. For
some time undecided between Constantinople and Rome, Boris
finally chose spiritual allegiance to the former, since the pa
triarch of Constantinople was willing to recognize a self-
governing Bulgarian church. This adhesion was of immense
consequence in determining the future growth of the Greek
Church in Eastern Europe. The most celebrated missionaries
among the Slavs were, however, the brothers Cyril ( ?-869) and
Methodius (?-885). Natives of Thessalonica, they had at
tained high position in the Eastern empire. On the request of
Rostislav, duke of Moravia, the Eastern Emperor, Michael III,
sent the brothers thither in 864. There they labored with great
success. A struggle of several years between the papacy and
Constantinople for possession of this new-won territory resulted
in the ultimate victory of Rome. The use of a Slavic liturgy
was permitted by Pope John VIII (872-882), though soon with
drawn, but from this source its worship came ultimately to the
Russian church. From Moravia, Christianity in its Roman
form came to Bohemia about the close of the ninth century.
SECTION VII. PAPAL DECLINE AND RENEWAL BY THE REVIVED
EMPIRE
It may seem strange that the papacy which showed such
power under Nicholas I should within twenty-five years of his
death have fallen into its lowest degradation. The explanation
is the growing anarchy of the times. Up to a certain point
the collapse of the empire aided the development of papal
RAPID DECLINE OF THE PAPACY 215
authority; that passed, the papacy became the sport of the
Italian nobles and ultimately of whatever faction was in con
trol of Rome, since the Pope was chosen by the clergy and
people of the city. The papacy could now appeal for aid to no
strong outside political power as Zacharias had to Pippin against
the Lombards.
At the close of the ninth century the papacy was involved
in the quarrels for the possession of Italy. Stephen V (885-
891) was overborne by Guido, duke of Spoleto, and compelled
to grant him the empty imperial title. Formosus (891-896)
was similarly dependent, and crowned Guido's son, Lambert,
Emperor in 892. From this situation Formosus sought relief
in 893 by calling in the aid of Arnulf, whom the Germans had
chosen King in 887. In 895 Arnulf captured Rome, and was
crowned Emperor by Formosus the next year. A few months
later Lambert was in turn master of Rome, and his partisan,
Stephen VI (896-897), had the remains of the lately deceased
Formosus disinterred, condemned in a synod, and treated
with extreme indignity. A riot, however, thrust Stephen VI
into prison, where he was strangled.
Popes now followed one another in rapid succession, as the
various factions controlled Rome. Between the death of
Stephen VI (897) and the accession of John XII (955) no less
than seventeen occupied the papal throne. The controlling
influences in the opening years of the tenth century were those
of the Roman noble Theophylact, and his notorious daugh
ters, Marozia and Theodora. The Popes were their creatures.
From 932 to his death in 954 Rome was controlled by Marozia's
son Alberic, a man of strength, ability, and character, who did
much for churchly reforms in Rome, but nevertheless secured
the appointment of his partisans as Popes. On his death he
was succeeded as temporal ruler of Rome by his son Octavian,
who had few of the father's rough virtues. Though without
moral fitness for the office, Octavian secured his own election
as Pope in 955, choosing as his name in this capacity John XII
(955-964), being one of the earliest Popes to take a new name
on election. He altered the whole Roman situation and in
troduced a new chapter in the history of the papacy, by calling
for aid upon the able German sovereign, Otto I, against the
threatening power of Berengar II, who had gained control of
a large part of Italy.
210 THE REGENERATION OF GERMANY
The line of Charlemagne came to an end in Germany, in
911, with the death of Louis the Child. With the disintegra
tion of the Carolingian empire and the growth of feudalism,
Germany threatened to fall into its tribal divisions, Bavaria,
Swabia, Saxony, Franconia, and Lorraine. The most power
ful men were the tribal dukes. The necessities of defense from
the Northmen and Hungarians forced a degree of unity, which
was aided by the jealousy felt by the bishops of the growing
power of the secular nobility. In 911 the German nobles and
great clergy, therefore, chose Conrad, duke of Franconia, as
King (911-918). He proved inadequate, and in 919 Henry
the Fowler, duke of Saxony, was elected his successor (919-936).
His ability was equal to the situation. Though having little
power, save in Saxony, he secured peace from the other dukes,
fortified his own territories, drove back the Danes, subdued the
Slavs east of the Elbe, and finally, in 933, defeated the Hun
garian invaders. The worst perils of Germany had been re
moved, and the foundations of a strong monarchy laid, when
he was succeeded as King by his even abler son, Otto I (936-
973).
Otto's first work was the consolidation of his kingdom. He
made the semi-independent dukes effectively his vassals. In
this work he used above all the aid of the bishops and great
abbots. They controlled large territories of Germany, and by
filling these posts with his adherents, their forces, coupled with
his own, were sufficient to enable Otto to control any hostile
combination of lay nobles. He named the bishops and abbots,
and under him they became, as they were to continue to the
Napoleonic wars, lay rulers as well as spiritual prelates. The
peculiar constitution of Germany thus arose, by which the
imperial power was based on control of ecclesiastical appoint
ments — a situation which was to lead to the investiture struggle
with the papacy in the next century. As Otto extended his
power he founded new bishoprics on the borders of his king
dom, partly political and partly missionary in aim, as Bran
denburg and Havelberg among the Slavs, and Schleswig, Ripen,
and Aarhus for the Danes. He also established the arch
bishopric of Magdeburg.
Had Otto confined his work to Germany it would have been
for the advantage of that land, and for the permanent upbuild
ing of a strong central monarchy. He was, however, attracted
THE HOLY ROMAN EMPIRE 217
by Italy, and established relations there of the utmost historic
importance, but which were destined to dissipate the strength
of Germany for centuries. A first invasion in 951 made him
master of northern Italy. Rebellion at home (953) and a great
campaign against the Hungarians (955) interrupted his Italian
enterprise ; but in 961 he once more invaded Italy, invited by
Pope John XII, then hard pressed by Berengar II (ante, p. 215).
On February 2, 962, Otto was crowned in Rome by John XII
as Emperor — an event which, though in theory continuing the
succession of the Roman Emperors from Augustus and Charle
magne, was the inauguration of the Holy Roman Empire,
which was to continue in name till 1806. Theoretically, the
Emperor was the head of secular Christendom, so constituted
with the approval of the church expressed by coronation by
the papacy. Practically, he was a more or less powerful Ger
man ruler, with Italian possessions, on varying terms with the
Popes.
John XII soon tired of Otto's practical control, and plotted
against him. Otto, of strong religious feeling, to whom such
a Pope was an offense, doubtless was also moved by a desire
to strengthen his hold on the German bishops by securing a
more worthy and compliant head of the church. In 963 Otto
compelled the Roman people to swear to choose no Pope with
out his consent, caused John XII to be deposed, and brought
about the choice of Leo VIII (963-965). The new Pope stood
solely by imperial support. On Otto's departure John XII re
sumed his papacy, and on John's death the Roman factions
chose Benedict V. Once more Otto returned, forced Benedict
into exile, restored Leo VIII, and after Leo's speedy demise,
caused the choice of John XIII (965-972). Otto had rescued
the papacy, for the time being, from the Roman nobles, but at
the cost of subserviency to himself.
Otto's son and successor, Otto II (973-983), pursued substan
tially the same policy at home, and regarding the papacy, as
his father, though with a weaker hand. His son, Otto III
(983-1002), went further. The Roman nobles had once more
controlled the papacy in his minority, but in 996 he entered
Rome, put them down, and caused his cousin Bruno to be
made Pope as Gregory V (996-999)— the first German to hold
the papal office. After Gregory's decease Otto III placed on
the papal throne his tutor, Gerbert, archbishop of Rheims,
218 THE EMPERORS AND THE PAPACY
as Silvester II (999-1003)— the first French Pope, and the most
learned man of the age.
The death of Otto III ended the direct line of Otto I, and the
throne was secured by Henry II (1002-1024), duke of Bavaria
and great-grandson of Henry the Fowler. A man filled with
sincere desire to improve the state of the church, he yet felt him
self forced by the difficulties in securing and maintaining his po
sition to exercise strict control over ecclesiastical appointments.
His hands were too fully tied by German affairs to interfere
effectually in Rome. There the counts of Tusculum gained
control of the papacy, and secured the appointment of Benedict
VIII (1012-1024), with whom Henry stood on good terms, and
by whom he was crowned. Henry even persuaded the unspiri-
tual Benedict VIII at a synod in Pavia in 1022, at which both
Pope and Emperor were present, to renew the prohibition of
priestly marriage and favor other measures which the age re
garded as reforms.
With the death of Henry II the direct line was once more
extinct, and the imperial throne was secured by a Franconian
count, Conrad II (1024-1039), one of the ablest of German
rulers, under whom the empire gained great strength. His
thoughts were political, however, and political considerations
determined his ecclesiastical appointments. With Rome he
did not interfere. There the Tusculan party secured the
papacy for Benedict VIII's brother, John XIX (1024-1032),
and on his death for his twelve-year-old nephew, Benedict IX
(1033-1048), both unworthy, and the latter one of the worst
occupants of the papal throne. An intolerable situation arose
at Rome, which was ended (see p. 221) by Conrad's able and
far more religious son, Henry III, Emperor from 1039 to 1056.
SECTION VIII. REFORM MOVEMENTS
Charlemagne himself valued monasticism more for its edu
cational and cultural work than for its ascetic ideals. Those
ideals appealed, however, in Charlemagne's reign to a soldier-
nobleman of southern France, Witiza, or as he was soon known,
Benedict (750?-821) called of Aniane, from the monastery
founded by him in 779. Benedict's aim was to secure every
where the full ascetic observation of the "Rule" of Benedict
of Nursia (ante, p. 139). The educational or industrial side of
REFORM MOVEMENTS. CLUNY. 219
monasticism appealed little to him. He would raise monasti-
cism to greater activity in worship, contemplation, and self-
denial. Under Louis the Pious Benedict became that Em
peror's chief monastic adviser, and by imperial order, in 816
and 817, Benedict of Aniane's interpretation of the elder Bene
dict's Rule was made binding on all monasteries of the empire.
Undoubtedly a very considerable improvement in their condi
tion resulted. Most of these benefits were lost, however, in the
collapse of the empire, in which monasticism shared in the
common fall.
The misery of the times itself had the effect of turning men's
minds from the world, and of magnifying the ascetic ideal.
By the early years of the tenth century a real ascetic revival
of religion was beginning that was to grow in strength for more
than two centuries. Its first conspicuous illustration was the
foundation in 910 by Duke William the Pious, of Aquitaine,
of the monastery of Cluny, not far from Macon in eastern
France.1 Cluny was to be free from all episcopal or worldly
jurisdiction, self-governing, but under the protection of the
Pope. Its lands were to be secure from all invasion or seculari
zation, and its rule that of Benedict, interpreted with great
ascetic strictness. Cluny was governed by a series of abbots
of remarkable character and ability. Under the first and
second of these, Berno (910-927) and Odo (927-942), it had
many imitators, through their energetic work. Even the
mother Benedictine monastery of Monte Cassino, in Italy,
was reformed on Cluny lines, and, favored by Alberic, a mon
astery, St. Mary on the Aventine hill, was founded which rep
resented Cluny ideas in Rome. By the death of Odo the Cluny
movement was wide-spread in France and Italy.
It was no part of the original purpose of Cluny to bring
other monasteries into dependence on it, or to develop far-
reaching churchly political plans. Its aim was a monastic
reformation by example and influence. Yet even at the
death of the first abbot five or six monasteries were under the
control of the abbot of Cluny. Under the fifth abbot, Odilo
(994-1048), however, Cluny became the head of a "congrega
tion," since he brought all monasteries founded or reformed by
Cluny into dependence on the mother house, their heads being
appointed by and responsible to the abbot of Cluny himself.
1 Henderson, Select Historical Documents, pp. 329-333.
%
220 AIMS OF THE CLUNY REFORMS
This was new in monasticism, and it made Cluny practically
an order, under a single head, with all the strength and influ
ence that such a constitution implies. It now came to have
a force comparable with that of the Dominicans or Jesuits of
later times. With this growth came an enlargement of the
reformatory aims of the Cluny movement. An illustration is
the "Truce of God." Though not originated by Cluny, it
was taken up and greatly furthered by Abbot Odilo from 1040
onward. Its aim was to limit the constant petty wars between
nobles by prescribing a closed season in memory of Christ's
passion, from Wednesday evening till Monday morning, during
which acts of violence should be visited with severe ecclesias
tical punishments. Its purpose was excellent; its success but
partial.
As the Cluny movement grew it won the support of the
clergy, and became an effort, not for the reform of monasticism,
as at first, but for a wide-reaching betterment of clerical life.
By the first half of the eleventh century the Cluny party, as a
whole, stood in opposition to "Simony"1 and "Nicolaitanism."2
By the former was understood any giving or reception of a
clerical office for money payment or other sordid consideration.
By the latter, any breach of clerical celibacy, whether by
marriage or concubinage. These reformers desired a worthy
clergy, appointed for spiritual reasons, as the age understood
worthiness. While many of the Cluny party, and even abbots
of Cluny itself, had apparently no criticism of royal ecclesias
tical appointments, if made from spiritual motives, by the
middle of the eleventh century a large section was viewing
any investiture by a layman as simony, and had as its reforma
tory ideal a papacy strong enough to take from the Kings and
princes what it deemed their usurped powers of clerical designa
tion. This was the section that was to support Hildebrand in
his great contest.
Elsewhere than in the Cluny movement ascetic reform was
characteristic of the tenth and eleventh centuries. In Lor
raine and Flanders a monastic revival of large proportions was
instituted by Gerhard, abbot of Brogne (?-959). In Italy,
Romuald of Ravenna (950?- 1027) organized settlements of
hermits, called "deserts," in which the strictest asceticism was
practised, and from which missionaries and preachers went
1 Acts 818-24. 2 Rev. 2". 14- 15.
HENRY III RESCUES THE PAPACY 221
forth. The most famous "desert," which still exists and gave
its name to the movement, is that of Camaldoli, near Arezzo.
Even more famous was Peter Damiani (1007?-1072), likewise
of Ravenna, a fiery supporter of monastic reform, and oppo
nent of simoriy and clerical marriage, who was, for a time,
cardinal bishop of Ostia, and a leading ecclesiastical figure in
Italy in the advancement of Hildebrandian ideas, preceding
Hildebrand's papacy.
It is evident that before the middle of the eleventh century
a strong movement for churchly reform was making itself
felt. Henry II had, in large measure, sympathized with it
(ante, p. 218). Henry III (1039-1056) was even more under
its influence. Abbot Hugh of Cluny (1049-1109) was a close
friend of that Emperor, while the Empress, Agnes, from Aqui-
taine, had been brought up in heartiest sympathy with the
Cluny party, of which her father had been a devoted adherent.
Henry III was personally of a religious nature, and though he
had no hesitation in controlling ecclesiastical appointments
for political reasons as fully as his father, Conrad II, he would
take no money for so doing, denounced simony, and appointed
bishops of high character and reformatory zeal.
The situation in Rome demanded Henry Ill's interference,
for it had now become an intolerable scandal. Benedict IX,
placed on the throne by the Tusculan party, had proved so
unworthy that its rivals, the nobles of the Crescenzio faction,
were able to drive him out of Rome, in 1044, and install their
representative as Silvester III in his stead. Benedict, however,
was soon back in partial possession of the city, and now, tiring
temporarily of his high office, and probably planning marriage,
he sold it in 1045 for a price variously stated as one or two thou
sand pounds of silver. The purchaser was a Roman archpriest
of good repute for piety, John Gratian, who took the name
Gregory VI. Apparently the purchase was known to few.
Gregory was welcomed at first by reformers like Peter Damiani.
The scandal soon became public property. Benedict IX re
fused to lay down the papacy, and there were now three Popes
in Rome, each in possession of one of the principal churches,
and each denouncing the other two. Henry III now inter
fered. At a synod held by him in Sutri in December, 1040,
Silvester III was deposed, and Gregory VI compelled to resign
and banished to Germany. A few days later, a synod in Rome,
222 THE REFORM PARTY SECURES THE PAPACY
under imperial supervision, deposed Benedict IX. Henry III
immediately nominated and the overawed clergy and people
of the city elected a German, Suidger, bishop of Bamberg, as
Clement II (1046-1047). Henry III had reached the high-
water mark of imperial control over the papacy. So grateful
did its rescue from previous degradation appear that the reform
party did not at first seriously criticise this imperial domina
tion ; but it could not long go on without raising the question
of the independence of the church. The very thoroughness of
Henry's work soon roused opposition.
Henry III had repeated occasion to show his control of the
papal office. Clement II soon died, and Henry caused another
bishop of his empire to be placed on the papal throne as Dam-
asus II. The new Pope survived but a few months. Henry
now appointed to the vacant see his cousin Bruno, bishop
of Toul, a thoroughgoing reformer, in full sympathy with
Cluny, who now journeyed to Rome as a pilgrim, and after
merely formal canonical election by the clergy and people of
the city — for the Emperor's act was determinative — took the
title of Leo IX (1049-1054).
SECTION IX. THE REFORM PARTY SECURES THE PAPACY
Leo IX set himself vigorously to the task of reform. His
most effective measure was a great alteration wrought in the
composition of the Pope's immediate advisers — the cardinals.
The name, cardinal, had originally been employed to indicate
a clergyman permanently attached to an ecclesiastical posi
tion. By the time of Gregory I (590-604), its use in Rome was,
however, becoming technical. From an uncertain epoch, but
earlier than the conversion of Constantine, in each district
of Rome a particular church was deemed, or designated, the
most important, originally as the exclusive place for baptisms
probably. These churches were known as "title" churches,
and their presbyters or head presbyters were the "cardinal"
or leading priests of Rome. In a similar way, the heads of
the charity districts into which Rome was divided in the third
century were known as the "cardinal" or leading deacons.
At a later period, but certainly by the eighth century, the
bishops in the immediate vicinity of Rome, the "suburbi-
carian" or suburban bishops, were called the "cardinal bish-
THE REFORM PARTY SECURES THE PAPACY 223
ops/' This division of the college of cardinals into "cardinal
bishops," "cardinal priests," and "cardinal deacons" persists
to the present day. As the leading clergy of Rome and vicinity,
they were, long before the name "cardinal" became exclusively
or even primarily attached to them, the Pope's chief aids and
advisers.
On attaining the papacy Leo IX found the cardinalate filled
with Romans, and so far as they were representative of the
noble factions which had long controlled the papacy before
Henry Ill's intervention, with men unsympathetic with
reform. Leo IX appointed to several of these high places men
of reformatory zeal from other parts of Western Christendom.
He thus largely changed the sympathies of the cardinalate,
surrounded himself with trusted assistants, and in considerable
measure rendered the cardinalate thenceforth representative
of the Western Church as a whole and not simply of the local
Roman community. It was a step of far-reaching consequence.
Three of these appointments were of special significance.
Humbert, a monk of Lorraine, was made cardinal bishop, and
to his death in 1061 was to be a leading opponent of lay inves
titure and a force in papal politics. Hugh the White, a monk
from the vicinity of Toul, who was to live till after 1098, be
came a cardinal priest, was long to be a supporter of reform,
only to become for the last twenty years of his life the most
embittered of opponents of Hildebrand and his successors.
Finally, Hildebrand himself, who had accompanied Leo IX
from Germany, was made a sub-deacon, charged with the finan
cial administration, in some considerable measure, of the Ro
man see. Leo IX appointed other men of power and reforma
tory zeal to important, if less prominent, posts in Rome and its
vicinity.
Hildebrand, who now came into association with the car
dinalate, is the most remarkable personality in mediaeval
papal history. A man of diminutive stature and unimpressive
appearance, his power of intellect, firmness of will, and limit-
lessness of design made him the outstanding figure of his age.
Born in humble circumstances in Tuscany, not far from the
year 1020, he was educated in the Cluny monastery of St.
Mary on the Aventine in Rome, and early inspired with the
most radical of reformatory ideals. He accompanied Gregory
VI to Germany on that unlucky Pope's banishment (ante.
224 LEO IX. EAST AND WEST DIVIDED
p. 221), and thence returned to Rome with Leo IX. Probably
he was already a monk, but whether he was ever in Cluny it
self is doubtful. He was, however, still a young man, and to
ascribe to him the leading influence under the vigorous Leo IX
is an error. Leo was rather his teacher.
Leo IX entered vigorously on the work of reform. He stood
in cordial relations with its chief leaders, Hugo, abbot of Cluny,
Peter Damiani, and Frederick of Lorraine. He made exten
sive journeys to Germany and France, holding synods and
enforcing papal authority. At his first Easter synod in Rome,
in 1049, he condemned simony and priestly marriage in the
severest terms. A synod held under his presidency in Rheims
the same year affirmed the principle of canonical election,
"no one shall be promoted to ecclesiastical rulership without
the choice of the clergy and people." By these journeys and
assemblies the influence of the papacy was greatly raised.
In his relations with southern Italy and with Constantinople
Leo IX was less fortunate. The advancing claims of the Nor
mans, who since 1016 had been gradually conquering the lower
part of the peninsula, were opposed by the Pope, who asserted
possession for the papacy. Papal interference with the
churches, especially of Sicily, which still paid allegiance to
Constantinople, aroused the assertive patriarch of that city,
Michael Cerularius (1043-1058), who now, in conjunction with
Leo, the metropolitan of Bulgaria, closed the churches of the
Latin rite in their regions and attacked the Latin Church in a
letter written by the latter urging the old charges of Photius
(ante, p. 213), and adding a condemnation of the use of un
leavened bread in the Lord's Supper — a custom which had be
come common in the West in the ninth century. Leo IX
replied by sending Cardinal Humbert and Frederick of Lor
raine, the papal chancellor, to Constantinople in 1054, by whom
an excommunication of Michael Cerularius and all his followers
was laid on the high altar of St. Sofia. This act has been
usually regarded as the formal separation of the Greek and
Latin Churches. In 1053 Leo's forces were defeated and he
himself captured by the Normans. He did not long survive
this catastrophe, dying in 1054.
On the death of Leo IX, Henry III appointed another Ger
man, Bishop Gebhard of Eichstadt, as Pope. He took the
title of Victor II (1055-1057). Though friendly to the reform
THE PAPACY SEEKS INDEPENDENCE 225
party, Victor II was a devoted admirer of his imperial patron,
and on the unexpected death of the great Emperor in 1156,
did much to secure the quiet succession of Henry Ill's son
Henry IV, then a boy of six, under the regency of the Empress
Mother, Agnesj. Less than a year later Victor II died.
SECTION X. THE PAPACY BREAKS WITH THE EMPIRE
Henry Ill's dominance was undoubtedly displeasing to the
more radical reformers, who had endured it partly of necessity,
since it was not apparent how the papacy could otherwise be
freed from the control of the Roman nobles, and partly because
of Henry's sympathy with many features of the reform move
ment. Henry himself had been so firmly intrenched in his
control of the German church, and of the papacy itself, that
the logical consequences of the reform movement appear not
to have been clear to him. Now he was gone. A weak re
gency had taken his place. The time seemed ripe to the re
formers for an advance which should lessen imperial control,
or, if possible, end it altogether.
On Victor II 's death the Romans, led by the reform clergy,
chose Frederick of Lorraine Pope as Stephen IX (1057-1058)
without consulting the German regent. A thoroughgoing
reformer, the new Pope was the brother of Duke Godfrey of
Lorraine, an enemy of the German imperial house, who by his
marriage with the Countess Beatrice of Tuscany had become
the strongest noble in northern Italy. Under Stephen, Cardinal
Humbert now issued a programme for the reform party in his
Three Books Against the Simoniacs, in which he declared all
lay appointment invalid and, in especial, attacked lay investi
ture, that is the gift by the Emperor of a ring and a staff to
the elected bishop in token of his induction into office. The
victory of these principles would undermine the foundations
of the imperial power in Germany. Their strenuous asser
tion could but lead to a struggle of gigantic proportions.
Nevertheless, Stephen did not dare push matters too far.
He, therefore, sent Hildebrand and Bishop Anselm of Lucca,
who secured the approval of the Empress Agnes for his papacy.
Scarcely had this been obtained when Stephen died in Flor
ence.
Stephen's death provoked a crisis. The Roman nobles re-
226 HILDEBRAND'S LEADERSHIP
asserted their old authority over the papacy and chose their
own partisan, Benedict X, only a week later. The reform
cardinals had to flee. Their cause seemed for the moment
lost. The situation was saved by the firmness and political
skill of Hildebrand. He secured the approval of Godfrey of
Tuscany and of a part of the people of Rome for the candidacy
of Gerhard, bishop of Florence, a reformer and, like Godfrey, a
native of Lorraine. A representative of this Roman minority
obtained the consent of the regent, Agnes. Hildebrand now
gathered the reform cardinals in Siena, and Gerhard was there
chosen as Nicholas II (1058-1061). The military aid of God
frey of Tuscany soon made the new Pope master of Rome.
Under Nicholas II the real power was that of Hildebrand, and
in lesser degree of the cardinals Humbert and Peter Damiani.
The problem was to free the papacy from the control of the
Roman nobles without coming under the overlordship of the
Emperor. Some physical support for the papacy must be
found. The aid of Tuscany could be counted as assured.
Beatrice and her daughter, Matilda, were to be indefatigable
in assistance. Yet Tuscany was not sufficient. Under the
skilful guidance of Hildebrand, Nicholas II entered into cordial
relations with the Normans, who had caused Leo IX so much
trouble, recognized their conquests, and received them as
vassals of the papacy. With like ability, intimate connections
were now established, largely through the agency of Peter
Damiani and Bishop Anselm of Lucca, with the democratic
party in Lombardy known as the Pataria, opposed to the anti-
reformatory and imperialistic higher clergy of that region.
Strengthened by these new alliances, Nicholas II at the Roman
synod of 1059 expressly forbad lay investiture under any cir
cumstances.
The most significant event of the papacy of Nicholas II was
the decree of this Roman synod of 1059 regulating choice to
the papacy — the oldest written constitution now in force, since,
in spite of considerable modification, it governs the selection of
Popes to this day. In theory, the choice of the Pope had been,
like that of other bishops, by the clergy and people of the city
of his see. This was termed a canonical election. In practice,
such election had meant control by whatever political power
was dominant in Rome. The design of the new constitution
was to remove that danger. In form, it put into law the cir-
REFORM IN PAPAL ELECTIONS 227
cumstances of Nicholas's own election.1 Its chief author seems
to have been Cardinal Humbert. It provided that, on the
death of a Pope, the cardinal bishops shall first consider as to
his successor and then advise with the other cardinals. Only
after their selection has been made should the suffrages of the
other clergy and people be sought. In studiously vague lan
guage, the document guards " the honor and reverence due to
our beloved son Henry" — that is the youthful Henry IV — but
does not in the least define the Emperor's share in the choice.
The evident purpose was to put the election into the hands of
the cardinals, primarily of the cardinal bishops. It was,
furthermore, provided that the Pope might come from any
where in the church, that the election could be held elsewhere
than in Rome in case of necessity, and that the Pope chosen
should possess the powers of his office immediately on election
wherever he might be. This was, indeed, a revolution in the
method of choice of the Pope, and would give to the office an
independence of political control not heretofore possessed.
Scarcely had these new political and constitutional results
been achieved than they were imperilled by the death of
Nicholas II in 1061. That of the energetic Cardinal Humbert
also occurred the same year. Hildebrand became more than
ever the ruling force in the reform party. Within less than
three months of Nicholas's death, Hildebrand had secured the
election of his friend Anselm, bishop of Lucca, as Alexander II
(1061-1073). The German bishops were hostile, however, to
the new method to papal election, the Lombard prelates dis
liked the papal support of the Pataria, and the Roman nobles
resented their loss of control over the papacy. These hostile
elements now united, and at a German assembly held in Basel
in 1061 procured from the Empress-regent the appointment as
Pope of Cadalus, bishop of Parma, who took the name of
Honorius II. In the struggle that followed, Honorius nearly
won; but a revolution in Germany in 1062 placed the chief
power in that realm and the guardianship of the young Henry
IV in the hands of the ambitious Anno, archbishop of Cologne.
Anno wished to stand well with the reform party, and threw
his influence on the side of Alexander, who was declared the
rightful Pope at a synod of German and Italian prelates held
1 Text in Henderson, Select Historical Documents, pp. 361-365. The
so-called "Papal Version" is in all probability the original.
228 PAPACY AND EMPIRE IX CONTEST
in Mantua in 1064. Thus Hildebrand's bold policy triumphed
over a divided Germany.
Alexander II, with Hildebrand's guidance, advanced the papal
authority markedly. Anno of Cologne and Siegfried of Mainz,
two of the most powerful prelates of Germany, were compelled
to do penance for simony. He prevented Henry IV from secur
ing a divorce from Queen Bertha. He lent his approval to
William the Conqueror's piratical expedition which resulted
in the Norman conquest of England in 1066, and further aided
William's plans by the establishment of Norman bishops in the
principal English sees. He gave his sanction to the efforts of
the Normans of southern Italy which were to result in the
conquest of Sicily. Meanwhile Henry IV came of age in 1065.
Far from being a weak King, he soon showed himself one of the
most resourceful of German rulers. It was inevitable that the
papal policy regarding ecclesiastical appointments should clash
with that historic control by German sovereigns on which their
power in the empire so largely rested. The actual dispute
came over the archbishopric of Milan — a post of the first im
portance for the control of northern Italy. Henry had ap
pointed Godfrey of Castiglione, whom Alexander had charged
with simony. The Pataria of Milan chose a certain Atto,
whom Alexander recognized as rightful archbishop. In spite
of that act, Henry now secured Godfrey's consecration, in
1073, to the disputed post. The struggle was fully on.
The contest involved the power of the imperial government
and the claims of the radical papal reform party. Alexander
looked upon Henry as a well-intentioned young man, misled
by bad advice, and he therefore excommunicated not Henry
himself, but Henry's immediate counsellors as guilty of simony.
Within a few days thereafter Alexander II died, leaving the
great dispute to his successor.
SECTION XI. HILDEBRAND AND HENRY IV
Hildebrand's election came about in curious disregard of the
new constitution established under Nicholas II. During the
funeral of Alexander II, in St. John Lateran, the crowd ac
claimed Hildebrand Pope, and carried him, almost in a riot, to
the church of St. Peter in Chains, where he was enthroned. He
took the name of Gregory VII (1073-1085). In his accession
IIILDEBRAXI) AND HEXRY IV 229
the extremest interpretation of the principles of Augustine's
City of God had reached the papal throne. The papacy he
viewed as a divinely appointed universal sovereignty, which all
must obey, and to- which all earthly sovereigns are responsible,
not only for tl»eir spiritual welfare, but for their temporal good
government. Though Cardinal Deusdedit, rather than Hilde-
brand, .was probably the author of the famous Dictatus, it well
expresses Hildebrand's principles: "That the Roman Church
was founded by God alone." "That the Roman pontiff alone
can with right be called universal." "That he alone can de
pose or reinstate bishops." "That he alone may use [i. e., dis
pose of] the imperial insignia." "That it may be permitted
him to depose Emperors." "That he himself may be judged
of no one." "That he may absolve subjects from their fealty
to wicked men."1 It was nothing less than an ideal of world-
rulership. In view of later experience it may be called imprac
ticable and even unchristian; but neither Hildebrand nor his
age had had that experience. It was a great ideal of a possible
regenerated human society, effected by obedience to command
ing spiritual power, and as such was deserving of respect in
those who held it, and worthy of that trial which alone could
reveal its value or worthlessness.
The opening years of Hildebrand's pontificate were favorable
for the papacy. A rebellion against Henry IV by his Saxon
subjects, who had many grievances, and the discontent of the
nobles of other regions kept Henry fully occupied. In 1074 he
did penance in Nuremberg before the papal legates, and prom
ised obedience. At the Easter synod in Rome in 1075, Hilde
brand renewed the decree against lay investiture7~cfejiying to
Henry any share in creating bishops. A few months later
Henry's fortunes changed. In June, 1075, his defeat of the
Saxons made him apparently master of Germany, and his atti
tude toward the papacy speedily altered. Henry once more
made an appointment to the archbishopric of Milan. Hilde
brand replied, in December, 1075, with a letter calling Henry
to severe account.2 On January 24, 1076, Henry, with his
nobles and bishops, held a council in Worms, at which the turn
coat cardinal, Hugh the White, was forward with personal
1 Henderson, Select Historical Documents, pp. 366, 367 ; extracts in
Robinson, Readings in European History, 1 : 274.
2 Henderson, pp. 367-371 ; Robinson, 1 : 276-279.
230 HILDEBRAND AND HENRY IV
charges against Hildebrand. There a large portion of the Ger
man bishops joined in a fierce denunciation of Hildebrand and
a rejection of his authority as Pope1 — an action for which the
approval of the Lombard prelates was speedily secured.
Hildebrand's reply was the most famous of mediaeval papal
decrees. At the Roman synod of February 22, 1076, he ex
communicated Henry, forbad him authority over Germany and
Italy, and released all Henry's subjects from their oaths of
allegiance.2 It was- the boldest assertion of papal authority
that had ever been made. To it Henry replied by a fiery letter
addressed to HiHebrand, "now no pope, but a false monk," in
which he called on Hildebrand to "come down, to be damned
throughout all eternity."3
Had Henry IV had a united Germany behind him the result
might easily have been Hildebrand's overthrow. Germany was
not united. The Saxons and Henry's other political enemies
used the opportunity to make him trouble. Even the bishops
had regard for the authority of a Pope they had nominally
rejected. Henry was unable to meet the rising opposition.
An assembly of nobles in Tribur, in October, 1076, declared that
unless released from excommunication within a year he would
be deposed, and the Pope was invited to a new assembly to
meet in Augsburg, in February, 1077, at which the whole Ger
man political and religious situation should be considered.
Henry was in great danger of losing his throne. It became a
matter of vital importance to free himself from excommunica
tion. Hildebrand refused all appeals; he would settle the ques
tions at Augsburg.
Henry IV now resolved on a step of the utmost dramatic and
political significance. He would meet Hildebrand before the
Pope could reach the assembly in Augsburg and wring from
him the desired absolution. He crossed the Alps in the winter
and sought Hildebrand in northern Italy, through which the
Pope was passing on his way to Germany. In doubt whether
Henry came in peace or war, Hildebrand sought refuge in the
strong castle of Canossa, belonging to his ardent supporter, the
Countess Matilda of Tuscany, the daughter of Beatrice (ante,
1 Henderson, pp. 373-376.
2 Henderson, pp. 376, 377 ; Robinson, 1 : 281, 282.
3 Henderson, pp. 372, 373 ; Robinson, 1 : 279-281. The letter seems to
belong here, rather than to January, 1076, to which it is often assigned.
HILDEBRAND AND HENRY IV 231
p. 226). Thither Henry went, and there presented himself
before the castle gate on three successive days, barefooted as a
penitent. The Pope's companions pleaded for him, and on
January 28, 1077, Henry IV was released from excommunica
tion. In man^ ways it was a political triumph for the King.
He had thrown his German opponents into confusion. He had
prevented a successful assembly in Augsburg under papal lead
ership. The Pope's plans had been disappointed. Yet the
event has always remained in men's recollection as the deepest
humiliation of the mediaeval empire before the power of the
church.1
In March, 1077, Henry's German enemies, without Hilde-
brand's instigation, chose Rudolf, duke of Swabia, as counter-
King. Civil war ensued, while the Pope balanced one claim
ant against the other, hoping to gain for himself the ultimate
decision. Forced at last to take sides, Hildebrand, at the
Roman synod in March, 1080, a second time excommunicated
and deposed Henry.2 The same political weapons can seldom
be used twice effectively. Sentiment had crystallized in Ger
many, and this time the Pope's action had little effect. Henry
answered by a synod in Brixen in June, 1080, deposing Hilde
brand,3 and choosing one of Hildebrand's bitterest opponents,
Archbishop Wibert of Ravenna, as Pope in his place. Wibert
called himself Clement III (1080-1100). The death of Rudolf
in battle, in October following, left Henry stronger in Germany
than ever before. He determined to be rid of Hildebrand. In
1081 Henry invaded Italy, but it was three years before he
gained possession of Rome. Pressed upon by the overwhelming
German and Lombard forces, Hildebrand's political supporters
proved too weak to offer permanently effective resistance. The
Roman people, and no less than thirteen of the cardinals, turned
to the victorious German ruler and his Pope. In March, 1084,
Wibert was enthroned, and crowned Henry Emperor. Hilde
brand, apparently a beaten man, still held the castle of San
Angelo, and absolutely refused any compromise. In May a
Norman army came to Hildebrand's relief, but these rough sup
porters so burned and plundered Rome, that he had to with-
1 The best account is that of Hildebrand himself. Henderson, pp. 385-
387 ; Robinson, 1 : 282-283.
2 Henderson, pp. 388-391.
8 Ibid,, pp. 391-394.
232 APPARENT DEFEAT BUT WORK CONTINUED
draw with them, and after nearly a year of this painful exile,
he died in Salerno, on May 25, 1085.
Hildebrand's relations to other countries have been passed
by in the account of his great struggle with Germany. It may
be sufficient to say that his aims were similar, though so en
grossed was he in the conflict with Henry IV that he never
pushed matters to such an extreme with the Kings of England
and Erance. He attempted to bring the high clergy every
where under his control. He caused extensive codifi cation of
church law to be made. He enforced clerical celibacy as not
only the theoretical but the practical rule of the Roman Church.
If his methods were worldly and unscrupulous, as they un
doubtedly were, no misfortune ever caused him to abate his
claims, and even in apparent defeat he won a moral victory.
The ideals that he had established for the papacy were to live
long after him.
SECTION XII. THE STRUGGLE ENDS IN COMPROMISE
On the death of Hildebrand, the cardinals faithful to him
chose as his successor Desiderius, the able and scholarly abbot
of Monte Cassino, who took the name of Victor III (1086-
1087). So discouraging was the outlook that he long refused
the doubtful honor. When at last he accepted it, he quietly
dropped Hildebrand's extremer efforts at world-rulership,
though renewing the prohibition of lay investiture with utmost
vigor. He was, however, able to be in Rome but a few days.
That city remained in the hands of Wibert, and before the end
of 1087 Victor III was no more. The situation of the party
of Hildebrand seemed well-nigh hopeless. After much hesita
tion, a few of the reform cardinals met in Terraciria, and chose
a French Cluny monk, who had been appointed a cardinal
bishop by Hildebrand, Odo of Lagary, as Pope Urban II (1088-
1099). A man of Hildebrandian convictions, without Hilde
brand's genius, Urban was far more conciliatory and politically
skilful. He sought with great success to create a friendly
party among the German clergy, aided thereto by the monks
of the influential monastery of Hirschau. He stirred up dis
affection for Henry IV, often by no worthy means. Yet it was
not till the close of 1093 that Urban was able to take effective
possession of Rome and drive out Wibert. His rise in power
THE STRUGGLE CONTINUED
was thence rapid. At a great synod held in Piacenza in March,
1095, he sounded the note of a crusade. At Clermont in No
vember of the same year he brought the Crusade into being
(p. 239). On the flood of the crusading movement Urban rose
at once to a ppsition of European leadership. Henry IV and
Wibert might oppose him, but the papacy had achieved a
popular significance compared with which they had nothing to
offer.
Though men were weary of the long strife, the next Pope,
Paschal II (1099-1118), made matters worse rather than bet
ter. Henry IV's last days were disastrous. A successful re
bellion, headed by his son, Henry V (1106-1125), forced his
abdication in 1105. His death followed the next year. Henry
V's position in Germany was stronger than his father's ever
had been, and he was more unscrupulous. His assertion of his
rights of investiture was as insistent as that of his father. In
1110 Henry V marched on Rome in force. Paschal II was pow
erless and without the courage of a Hildebrand. The Pope and
Henry now agreed (1111) that the King should resign his right
of investiture, provided the bishops of Germany should relin
quish to him all temporal lordships.1 That would have been a
revolution that would have reduced the German church to
poverty, and the protest raised on its promulgation in Rome,
in February, 1111, showed it impossible of accomplishment.
Henry V then took the Pope and the cardinals prisoners. Pas
chal weakened. In April, 1111, he resigned to Henry investi
ture with ring and staff, and crowned him Emperor.2 The Hil
debrand ian party stormed in protest. At the Roman synod of
March, 1112, Paschal withdrew his agreement, which he could
well hold was wrung from him by force. A synod in Vienne in
September excommunicated Henry and forbad lay investiture,
and this action the Pope approved.
Yet the basis of a compromise wras already in sight. Two
French church leaders, Ivo, bishop of Chartres, and Hugo of
Fleury, in writings between 1099 and 1106, had argued that
church and state each had their rights of investiture, the one
with spiritual, the other with temporal authority. Anselm, the
famous archbishop of Canterbury, a firm supporter of reform
principles (1093-1109), had refused investiture from Henry I
1 Henderson, pp. 405-407 ; Robinson, 1 : 290-292.
2 Henderson, pp. 407, 408.
234 THE CONCORDAT OF WORMS
of England (1100-1135), and -led to a contest which ended in
the resignation by the King of investiture with ring and staff,
while retaining to the crown investiture with temporal posses
sion by the reception of an oath of fealty. These principles and
precedents influenced the further course of the controversy.
The compromise came in 1122, in the Concordat of Worms,
arranged between Henry V and Pope Calixtus II (1119-1124).
By mutual agreement, elections of bishops and abbots in Ger
many were to be free and in canonical form, yet the presence of
the Emperor at the choice was allowed, and in case of disputed
election he should consult with the metropolitan and other bish
ops of the province. In other parts of the empire, Burgundy
and Italy, no mention was made of the imperial presence. The
Emperor renounced investiture with ring and staff, i. e., with
the symbols of spiritual authority. In turn, the Pope granted
him the right of investiture with the temporal possessions of
the office by the touch of the royal sceptre, without demand of
payment from the candidate. This imperial recognition was
to take place in Germany before consecration, and in the other
parts of the empire within six months thereafter.1 The effect
was that in Germany at least a bishop or abbot must be accept
able both to the church and to the Emperor. In Italy the
imperial power, which had rested on control of churchly ap
pointments, was greatly broken. It was an outcome of the
struggle which would but partially have satisfied Hildebrand.
Yet the church had won much. If not superior to the state,
it had vindicated its equality with the temporal power.
SECTION XIII. THE GREEK CHURCH AFTER THE PICTURE
CONTROVERSY
The Isaurian dynasty in Constantinople (717-802), witnessed
the severe internal conflicts caused by the picture-worshipping
controversy, which was in a measure a struggle for the freedom
of the church from imperial control (ante, p. 162). It beheld
the loss of Rome and of the Exarchate, and the rise of the
renewed Western empire under Charlemagne. The periods of
the Phrygian (820-867) and Macedonian dynasties (867-1057)
were marked by a notable revival of learning, so that, intellec
tually, the East was decidedly superior to the West. The pa-
1 Henderson, pp. 408, 409 ; Robinson, 1 : 292, 293.
THE GREEK CHURCH. THE PAULICIANS 235
triarch, Photius, whose quarrel with Nicholas I has already
been noted, was of eminent scholarship. His Myriobiblon is
of permanent worth, as preserving much of ancient classical
authors otherwise lost. Symeon " Metaphrastes " compiled his
famous collection of the lives of the Eastern saints in the tenth
century. In Symeon, "the New Theologian" (?-1040?), the
Greek. Church had its noblest mystic, who believed that the
revelation of the divine light — the very vision of God — is pos
sible of attainment and is of grace, bringing peace, joy, and jus
tification. Theologically, the Greek world had nothing new to
offer. It held with intensity to the traditions of the past.
The chief religious controversy in the East of this epoch was
that caused by the Paulicians. The origin and history of the
movement is obscure. They called themselves Christians sim
ply, their nickname being apparently due to their reverence
for Paul the Apostle, rather than as sometimes claimed to any
real connection with Paul of Samosata. The movement ap
pears to have begun with a Constantine-Silvanus, of Mananalis,
near Samosata, about 650-660. In it ancient heretical beliefs,
akin to and perhaps derived from the Marcionites and Gnostics,
reappeared. Though the Paulicians repudiated Manichseism,
they were dualists, holding that this world is the creation of
an evil power, while souls are from the kingdom of the good
God. They accepted the New Testament, with the possible
exception of the writings ascribed to Peter, as the message of
the righteous God. They viewed Christ as an angel sent by
the good God, and hence Son of God by adoption. His work
was primarily that of instruction. They rejected monasticism,
the external sacraments, the cross, images, and relics. Their
ministry was that of wandering preachers and " copyists." The
Catholic hierarchy they repudiated. They opposed the ex-
ternalism of current orthodox religious life.
The Paulicians seem to have spread rapidly in the Eastern
empire, and to have taken strong root in Armenia. Persecuted
by the orthodox, their military powers procured them consider
able respect. Constantine V transplanted colonies of them to
the Balkan peninsula in 752, as a defense against the Bulgarians
— a process which was repeated on a larger scale by the Em
peror, John Tzimiskes, in 969. There they seem to have given
origin to the very similar Bogomiles, who in turn were to be
influential in the development of the Cathari of southern France
236 THE SCANDINAVIAN LANDS
(p. 249). Driven to seek refuge among the Saracens, some~sec-
tions of the Paulicians harassed the borders of the empire in
the ninth century, and even penetrated deeply into it, till their
military success, though not their religious activity, was per
manently checked by the Emperor, Basil I, in 871.
The latter half of the ninth and the tenth centuries was a
period of revived military power for the Eastern empire, espe
cially under John Tzimiskes (969-976) and Basil II (976-1025).
By the latter, Bulgaria and Armenia were conquered. Internal
dissensions and a fear of usurping militarism weakened the
empire in the eleventh century, so that the rise of the Seljuk
Turks found it unprepared. In 1071 the Turks conquered a
large part of Asia Minor, and in 1080 established themselves in
Nicsea, less than a hundred miles from Constantinople. This
great loss to Christianity was to be one of the causes leading
to the Crusades.
SECTION XIV. THE SPREAD OF THE CHURCH
The tenth and eleventh centuries were an epoch of large
extension of Christianity. Ansgar's work in the Scandinavian
lands (ante, p. 213) had left few results. Scandinavian Chris-
tianization was a slow and gradual process. Unni, archbishop
of Hamburg (918-936), imitated Ansgar, but without great
success. The work was carried forward by Archbishop Adaldag
(937-988). Under his influence, King Harold Bluetooth of
Denmark accepted Christianity, and Danish bishoprics were
established. Under Harold's son, Sweyn, heathenism was
again in power; but he was brought to favor the church in
995, and the work was completed in Denmark by King Canute
the Great (1015-1035), who also ruled England and, for a
time, Norway.
The story of Norway is similar. Some Christian beginnings
were made under Hakon I (935-961), and missionaries were
sent by Harold Bluetooth of Denmark. Christianity in Nor
way was not permanently established till the time of Olaf I
(995-1000), who brought in English preachers. The work
was now extended to the Orkneys, Shetland, Hebrides, Faroe,
Iceland, and Greenland, then in Scandinavian possession.
Olaf II (1015-1028) enforced Christianity in Norway with
such extreme measures that he was deposed and Canute gained
HUNGARY, POLAND, AND RUSSIA 237
control; yet lie lives in tradition as St. Olaf. Magnus I (1035-
1047) completed the work.
In Sweden, after many beginnings from the time of Ansgar,
Christianity was effectively established by King Olaf Skott-
konung (994-1024), who was baptized in 1008. Yet the work
was slow, and heathenism was not fully overthrown till about
1100. Finland and Lapland were not reached till two cen
turies later.
After various efforts in the tenth century, Christianity was
effectively established in Hungary by King Stephen I (997-
1038), the organizer of the Hungarian monarchy, who lives
in history as St. Stephen. The Polish duke, Mieczyslaw, ac
cepted Christianity in 967, and in 1000 King Boleslaus I
(992-1025) organized the Polish church with an archbishopric
in Gnesen. Pomerania was not Christianized till 1124-1128.
The movements just considered were the work of the Latin
Church. The great extension of the Greek Church lies in this
period and was accomplished by the conversion of Russia.
Its beginnings are obscure. Efforts for the spread of Chris
tianity in Russia seem to have been made as early as the time
of the patriarch of Constantinople Photius (866). The Rus
sian Queen, Olga, received baptism on a visit to Constantinople
in 957. The work was at last definitely established by Grand-
duke Vladimir I (980-1015), who received baptism in 988,
and compelled his subjects to follow his example. A metro
politan, nominated by the patriarch of Constantinople, was
placed at the head of the Russian church, with his see speedily
in Kiev, from which it was transferred in 1299 to the city of
Vladimir, and in 1325 to Moscow.
PERIOD V. THE LATER MIDDLE AGES
SECTION I. THE CRUSADES
THE Crusades are in many ways the most remarkable of
the phenomena of the Middle Ages. Their causes were many.
The historian who emphasizes economic influences may well
claim the unusually trying conditions of the eleventh century
as a main source. Between 970 and 1040 forty-eight famine
years were counted. From 1085 to 1095 conditions were
even worse. Misery and unrest prevailed widely. The more
settled conditions of the age made impossible such migrations
of nations as had been exhibited in the Germanic invasions
at the downfall of the Western empire. The same desire to
change environment was, however, felt.
Stimulated by these economic conditions, doubtless, the
whole eleventh_jcentiiry wa,a a, period of deepening religions
feeTmgi ItT^mnifestations took monastic and ascetic forms.
It was characterized by a strong sense of "other-worldliness,"
of the misery of earth and the blessedness of heaven. This
increasing religious zeal had been the forge which hnd reformed
the papacy, and had supported antagonism to simony and
Nicolaitanism, and nerved the long struggle with the empire.
Those regions where the reform movement had shone brightest,
or which had come into closest relations with the reforming
papacy, France, Lorraine, and southern Italy, were the recruit
ing-grounds of the chief crusading armies. The jpjety nf fjip
time placecLgreat vain** nn rpljcs and pilgrimages, and what
more precious relic could there be, or what nobler pilgrimage
shrine, than the land hallowed by the life, death, and resurrec
tion of Christ? That land had been an object of pilgrimage
since the days of Constantine. Though Jerusalem had been
in Moslem possession since 638, pilgrimages had been, save
for brief intervals, practically uninterrupted. They had never
been more numerous than in the eleventh century, till the
conquest of much of Asia Minor, from 1071 onward, and the
capture of Jerusalem, by the Seljuk Turks, mnde pilgrimage
ip nnd dpfifrrRted *b? ho
238
CAUSES OF THE CRUSADES 239
It was to an age profoundly impressed with the spiritual
advantage of pilgrimages that the news of these things came.
The time, moreover, was witnessing successful contests with
Mohammedanism. Between 1060 and 1090 the Normans
of southern Jtaly had wrested Sicily from the Moslems.
Under Ferdinand I of Castile (1028-1065) the effective Chris
tian reconquest of Spain from the Mohammedans had begun.
The later eleventh century is the age of the Cid (1040?-1099).
The feeling was wide-spread that Christianity could dispossess
Mohammedanism. Love of adventure, hopes for plunder,
desire for territorial advancement and religious hatred, un-
doubteoUymoved the Crusaders with very earthly impulses.
We should wrong them, however, if we did not recognize with
equal clearness that they thought they were doing something
of the highest importance for their souls and for Christ.
The first impulse to the Crusades came from an appeal of
the~Easternt Emperor^Michael Vli (lU(^-1078),.t,n Hildpbrand
for ^ip^a^ajinstjthe Seljufes. That great Pope, to whom this
seemed to promise the reunion of Greek and Latin Christen
dom, took the matter up in 1074, and was able to report to
Henry IV of Germany that fifty thousand men were ready to
go under the proper leadership. The speedy outbreak of the
investiture struggle frustrated the plan. It was effectively
to be revived by Urban II, the heir in so many directions of
Hildebrand.
f Alexius I (1081-1118), a stronger ruler than his immediate
predecessors in Constantinople, felt unable to cope with the
perils which threatened the empire. He, therefore, appealed
to Urban II for assistance. Urban received the imperial mes
sengers at the synod in Piacenza, in northern Italy, in March,
1095, and promised his help. At the synod held in Clermont,
in eastern France, in the following November, Urban now
proclaimed the Crusade in an appeal of almost unexampled
consequence. The enterprise had magnified in his concep
tion from that of aid to the hard-pressed Alexius to a general
rescue of the holy places from Moslem hands. H& called on
all Christendom to take part in the work, promising for-
giVpnpssj^sins tn a.11 and fitpriml lifp to thos^ wfrn shniiM fall
in theenterprise. The message found immediate and enthu
siastic response! Among the popular preachers who took it
up none was more famous than Peter the Hermit, a monk
240 THE FIRST CRUSADE
from Amiens or its vicinity. Early legend attributed to him
the origin of the Crusade itself, of which he was unquestionably
one of the most effective proclaimers. He does not deserve
the distinction thus attributed to him, nor was his conduct on
the Crusade, once it had started, such as to do credit to his
leadership or even to his courage.
Such was the enthusiasm engendered, especially in France,
that large groups of peasants, with some knights among them,
set forth in the spring of 1096, under the lead of Walter the
Penniless; a priest, Gottschalk, and Peter the Hermit himself.
By some of these wild companies many Jews were massacred
in the Rhine cities. Their own disorderly pillage led to savage
reprisals in Hungary and the Balkans. That under Peter
reached Constantinople, but was almost entirely destroyed by
the Turks in an attempt to reach Nicsea. Peter himself did
not share this catastrophe, joined the main crusading force,
and survived the perils of the expedition.
The real work of the First Crusade was accomplished by
the feudal nobility of Europe. Three great armies were raised.
That from Lorraine and Belgium included Godfrey of Bouillon,
the moral hero of the Crusade, since he commanded the respect
due to his single-minded and unselfish devotion to its aims,
though not its ablest general. With Godfrey were his brothers,
Baldwin and Eustace. Other armies from northern France
were led by Hugh of Vermandois and Robert of Normandy.
From southern France came a large force under Count Rai-
mond of Toulouse, and from Norman Italy a well-equipped
army led by Bohemund of Taranto and his nephew Tancred.
The earliest of these forces started in August, 1096. No single
commander led the hosts. Urban II had appointed Bishop
Ademar of Puy his legate; and Ademar designated Constan
tinople as the gathering place. Thither each army made its
way as best it could, arriving there in the winter and spring
of 1096-1097, and causing Alexius no little difficulty by their
disorder and demands.
In May, 1097, the crusading army began the siege of Nicsea.
Its surrender followed in June. On July 1 a great victory
over the Turks near Dorylseum opened the route across Asia
Minor, so that Iconium was reached, after severe losses through
hunger and thirst, by the middle of August. By October the
crusading host was before the walls of Antioch. That city
Longl
East W' from Greenwich.
THE CRUSADES.
first Crusade, 1096 1099
Second CruHade, 11 tf
Louis VH Conrad III
Third Crusade, 11S9 1190 Frederic 1
Third Crusade, 1190 1191 Richard
and Philip Augustus.
•CAL.OFM.U*
THE FIRST CRUSADE 241
it captured only after a difficult siege, on June 3, 1098. Three
days later the Crusaders were besieged in the city by the
Turkish ruler Kerbogha of Mosul. The crisis of the Crusade
was this time of peril and despair; but on June 28 Kerbogha
was completely f defeated. Yet it was not till June, 1099, that
Jerusalem was reached, and not till July 15 that it was cap
tured and its inhabitants put to the sword. The complete
defeat of an Egyptian relieving army near Ascalon on August
12, 1099, crowned the success of the Crusade.
On the completion of the work, Godfrey of Bouillon was
chosen Protector of the Holy Sepulchre. He died in July,
1100, and was succeeded by his abler brother, who had estab
lished a Latin county in Edessa, and now took the title of King
Baldwin I (1100-1118). The Crusaders were from the feudal
West, and the country was divided and organized in full feudal
fashion. It included, besides the Holy Land, the principality
of Antioch, and the counties of Tripoli and Edessa, which were
practically independent of the King of Jerusalem. In the
towns important Italian business settlements sprang up; but
most of the knights were French. Under a patriarch of the
Latin rite in Jerusalem, the country was divided into four arch
bishoprics and ten bishoprics, and numerous monasteries were
established.
The greatest support of the kingdom soon came to be the
military orders. Of these, that of the Templars was founded
by Hugo de Pay ens in 1119, and granted quarters near the
site of the temple — hence their name — by King Baldwin II
(1118-1131). Through the hearty support of Bernard of Clair-
vaux the order received papal approval in 1128, and soon won
wide popularity in the West. Its members took the usual
monastic vows and pledged themselves, in addition, to fight
for the defense of the Holy Land and to protect pilgrims. They
were not clergy, but laymen. In some respects the order was
like a modern missionary society. Those who sympathized
with the Crusade, but were debarred by age or sex from a
personal share in the work, gave largely that they might be
represented by others through the order. Since property
was mostly in land, the Templars soon became great land
holders in the West. Their independence and wealth made
them objects of royal jealousy, especially after their original
purpose had been frustrated by the end of the Crusades, and
242 THE MILITARY ORDERS. LATER CRUSADES
led to their brutal suppression in France in 1307 by King
Philip IV (1285-1314). While the Crusades lasted they were
a main bulwark of the kingdom of Jerusalem.
Much the same thing may be said of the great rivals of the
Templars, the Hospitallers or Knights of St. John. Charle
magne had founded a hospital in Jerusalem, which was de
stroyed in 1010. Refounded by citizens of Amalfi, in Italy,
it was in existence before the First Crusade, and was named
for the church of St. John the Baptist, near which it stood.
This foundation was made into a military order by its grand
master, Raymond du Puy (1120-1160?), though without neg
lecting its duties to the sick. After the crusading epoch it
maintained a struggle with the Turks from its seat in Rhodes
(1310-1523), and then from Malta (1530-1798). A third and
later order was that of the Teutonic Knights, founded by
Germans in 1190. Its chief work, however, was not to be in
Palestine but, from 1229 onward, in Prussia, or as it is now
known, East Prussia, where it was a pioneer in civilization and
Christianization.
In spite of feudal disorganization the kingdom of Jerusalem
was fairly successful till the capture of Edessa by the Mo
hammedans in 1144 robbed it of its northeastern bulwark.
Bernard of Clairvaux, now at the height of his fame, proclaimed
a new Crusade and enlisted Louis VII of France (1137-1180)
and the Emperor Conrad III (1138-1152) from Germany in
1146. In 1147 the Second Crusade set forth; but it showed
little of the fiery enthusiasm of its predecessor, its forces largely
perished in Asia Minor, and such as reached Palestine were
badly defeated in an attempt to take Damascus, in 1148. It
was a disastrous failure, and its collapse left a bitter feeling in
the West toward the Eastern empire, to whose princes that
failure, rightly or wrongly, was charged.
One reason of the success of the Latin kingdom had been
the quarrels of the Mohammedans. In 1171 the Kurdish gen
eral, Saladin, made himself master of Egypt; by 1174 he had
secured Damascus, and by 1183 Saladin's territories surrounded
the Latin kingdom on the north, east, and south. A united
Mohammedanism had now to be met. Results soon followed.
At Hattin the Latin army was defeated in July, 1187. The
loss of Jerusalem and of most of the Holy Land speedily fol
lowed. The news of this catastrophe roused Europe to the
LATER CRUSADES 243
Third Crusade (1189-1192). None of the Crusades was more
elaborately equipped. Three great armies were led by the
Emperor Frederick Barbarossa (1152-1190), the first soldier
of his age, by King Philip Augustus of France (1179-1223),
and by King Richard "Cceur de Lion" of England (1189-1199).
Frederick was* accidentally drowned in Cilicia. His army,
deprived of his vigorous leadership, was utterly ineffective.
The quarrels between the Kings of France and England, and
Philip's speedy return to France to push his own political
schemes, rendered the whole expedition almost abortive. Acre
was recovered, but Jerusalem remained in Moslem possession.
The Fourth Crusade (1202-1204) was a small affair as far
as numbers engaged, but of important political and religious
consequences. Its forces were from the districts of northern
France known as Champagne and Blois, and from Flanders.
Men had become convinced that the true route to the recovery
of Jerusalem was the preliminary conquest of Egypt. The
Crusaders therefore bargained with the Venetians for trans
portation thither. Unable to raise the full cost, they accepted
the proposition of the Venetians that, in lieu of the balance due,
they stop on their way and conquer Zara from Hungary for
Venice. This they did. A much greater proposal was now
made to them. They should stop at Constantinople, and assist
in dethroning the imperial usurper, Alexius III (1195-1203).
Alexius, son of the deposed Isaac II, promised the Crusaders
large payment and help on their expedition provided they
would overthrow the usurper, and crafty Venice saw bright
prospects of increased trade. Western hatred of the Greeks
contributed. Though Pope Innocent III forbad this division
of purpose, the Crusaders were persuaded. Alexius III was
easily driven from his throne ; but the other Alexius was unable
to keep his promises to the Crusaders, who now with the Vene
tians, in 1204, captured Constantinople, and plundered its
treasures. No booty was more eagerly sought than the relics
in the churches, which now went to enrich the places of worship
of the West. Baldwin of Flanders was made Emperor, and a
large portion of the Eastern empire was divided, feudal fash
ion, among Western knights. Venice obtained a considerable
part and a monopoly of trade. A Latin patriarch of Constanti
nople was appointed, and the Greek Church made subject to
the Pope. The Eastern empire still continued, though it was
244 LATER CRUSADES
not to regain Constantinople till 1261. This Latin conquest
was disastrous. It greatly weakened the Eastern empire, and
augmented the hatred between Greek and Latin Christianity.
A melancholy episode was the so-called "Children's Crusade"
of 1212. A shepherd boy, Stephen, in France, and a boy of
Cologne, in Germany, Nicholas, gathered thousands of children.
Straggling to Italy, they were largely sold into slavery in Egypt.
Other crusading attempts were made. An expedition against
Egypt, in 1218-1221, had some initial success, but ended in
failure. It is usually called the Fifth Crusade. The most
curious was the Sixth (1228-1229). The free-thinking Emperor
Frederick II (1212-1250), had taken the cross in 1215, but
showed no haste to fulfil his vows. At last, in 1227, he started,
but soon put back. He seems to have been really ill, but Pope
Gregory IX (1227-1241), believing him a deserter, and having
other grounds of hostility, excommunicated him. In spite of"
the ban, Frederick went forward in 1228, and the next year
secured, by treaty with the Sultan of Egypt, possession of
Jerusalem, Bethlehem, Nazareth and a path to the coast.
Jerusalem was once more in Christian keeping till 1244, when it
was permanently lost. The crusading spirit was now well-nigh
spent, though Louis IX of France (St. Louis, 1226-1270) led
a disastrous expedition against Egypt in 1248-1250, in which he
was taken prisoner, and an attack on Tunis in 1270, in which
he lost his life. The last considerable expedition was that of
Prince Edward, soon to be Edward I of England (1272-1307),
in 1271 and 1272. In 1291, the last of the Latin holdings in
Palestine was lost. The Crusades were over, though men
continued to talk of new expeditions for nearly two centuries
more.
Viewed from the aspect of their purpose the Crusadesjvgre
failures^ Thgy_^made no permanent conquest of the Iloly
LancL It may be "doubted whether they greatly retarded the
advance of Mohammedanism. Their costjnjjyes and treasure
was^enormous. Though initiated in a high spirit of devotion,
their methods at best were not those which modern Christianity
regards as illustrative of the Gospel, and their conduct was
disgraced throughout by quarrels, divided motives, and low
standards of personal conduct. Whpnjfrpir indirect resists are
examinerlj however ; a ^zery different estimate is taJba-mad^-of
orth. Civilization is the result of so complex factors
RESULTS OF THE CRUSADES 245
that it is hard to assign precise values to single causes. Europe
would have made progress during this period had there been no
Crusades. But the changes wrought are so remarkable that
the conclusion is unavoidable that the largest single influence
was that of thd Crusades.
Itiie commerce which the Crusades stimulated the cities
and of the great trade route over
and down the_J]hinp r'.>s^ t" impnrtanpp JBy the sacrifices of
feudal lands and property which they involved, a new political
element, that__oi.Jhglowns— a " third estate "—was preatlv
stimulated, esp^iallyJnFrance. Thgjmpntal horizon of the
Thousands who
iVnorance and narrow-mindedness
were
civilization of the East. Kveryw^pr^
awakening. Thf period wit,npgse^ — the — highest theological
development, of the Middle A UPS — that of Scholasticism. It
beheld great popular religious movements, in and outside of
the church. It saw the development of the universities. In it
the study_ of RomarT law became a transforming influence.
Modem vernacular literaturej)egan to flourish. A-great artis-
tic_develoipmerit, the national architecture of northern France,
misnamed the' Gothic, now ran its glorious career. The Europe
of the period of the Crusades wras awake and enlightened com
pared with the centuries which had gone before. Admitting
that the Crusades were but one factor in this result, they were
worth all their cost.
SECTION II. NEW RELIGIOUS MOVEMENTS
The epoch of the First Crusade was one of increasing religious
earnestness, manifesting itself in other-worldliness, asceticism,
mystical piety, and emphasis on the monastic life. The long
battle against simony and Nicolaitanism had turned popular
sympathies from the often criticised "secular," or ordinary
clergy, to the monks as the true representatives of the religious
ideal. Cluny had, in a measure, spent its force. Its very
success had led to luxury of living. New religious associations
were arising, of which the most important was that of the
Cistercians — an order which dominated the twelfth century
as Cluny had the eleventh.
246 THE CISTERCIANS. BERNARD
Like Cluny, the Cistercians were of French origin. A Bene
dictine monk, Robert, of the monastery of Montier, impressed
with the ill-discipline of contemporary monasticism, founded a
monastery of great strictness in Citeaux, not far from Dijon,
in 1098. From the first, the purpose of the foundation of
Citeaux was to cultivate a strenuous, self-denying life. Its
buildings, utensils, even the surroundings of worship, were of
the plainest character. In food and clothing it exercised great
austerity. Its rule was that of Benedict, but its self-denial
was far beyond that of Benedictines generally. Under its third
abbot, Stephen Harding (1109-1134), an Englishman, the sig
nificance of Citeaux rapidly grew. Four affiliated monasteries
were founded by 1115, under his leadership. Thenceforth its
progress was rapid throughout all the West. By 1130, the
Cistercian houses numbered thirty; by 1168, two hundred and
eighty-eight, and a century later six hundred and seventy-one.
Over all these the abbot of Citeaux had authority, assisted by
a yearly assembly of the heads of the affiliated monasteries.
Much attention was devoted to agriculture, relatively little to
teaching or pastoral work. The ideals were withdrawal from the
world, contemplation, and imitation of " apostolic poverty."
Not a little of the early success of the Cistercians was due to
the influence of Bernard (1090-1153), the greatest religious force
of his age, and, by common consent, deemed one of the chief
of mediaeval saints. Born of knightly ancestry in Fontaines,
near Dijon, he inherited from his mother a deeply religious
nature. With some thirty companions, the fruit of his powers
of persuasion, he entered the monastery of Citeaux, probably
in 1112. Thence he went forth in 1115 to found the Cistercian
monastery of Clairvaux, abbot of which he remained, in spite
of splendid offers of ecclesiastical preferment, till his death. A
man of the utmost self-consecration, his prime motive was a love
to Christ, which in spite of extreme monastic self-mortification,
found so evangelical an expression as to win the hearty approval
of Luther and Calvin. The mystic contemplation of Christ
was his highest spiritual joy. It determined not merely his
own type of piety, but very largely that of the age in its nobler
expressions. Above all, men admired in Bernard a moral force,
a consistency of character, which added weight to all that he
said and did.
Bernard was far too much a man of action to be confined
BERNARD 247
to the monastery. The first preacher of his age, and one of
the greatest of all ages, he moved his fellows profoundly, from
whatever social class they might come. He conducted a vast
correspondence on the problems of the time. The interests of
the church, ofy which he was regarded as the most eminent
ornament, led to wide journeyings. In particular, the healing
of the papal schism which resulted in the double choice by the
cardinals in 1130 of Innocent II (1130-1143) and Anacletus II
(1130-1138) was Bernard's work. His dominating part in
organizing the unfortunate Second Crusade has already been
considered (ante, p. 242). His influence with the papacy seemed
but confirmed when a former monk of Clairvaux was chosen
as Eugene III (1145-1153), though many things that Eugene
did proved not to Bernard's liking. Convinced that his own
views were the only orthodox conceptions, he persuaded others,
also, and secured the condemnation of Abelard (p. 265) by the
synod of Sens in 1141, and its approval by the Pope. In 1145
Bernard preached, with some temporary success, to the heretics
of southern France. In 1153 he died, the best known and the
most widely mourned man of his age.
Bernard's ascetic and other-worldly principles were repre
sented, curiously, in a man whom he bitterly opposed — Arnold
of Brescia (?-1155). With all his devotion to "apostolic
poverty," Bernard had no essential quarrel with the hierarchical
organization of his day, or hostility to its exercise of power
in worldly matters. Arnold was much more radical. Born
in Brescia, a student in France, he became a clergyman in his
native city. Of severe austerity, he advanced the opinion that
the clergy should abandon all property and worldly power.
So only could they be Christ's true disciples. In the struggle
between Innocent II and Anacletus II he won a large following
in Brescia, but was compelled to seek refuge in France, where
he became intimate with Abelard, and was joined with him in
condemnation, at Bernard's instigation, by the synod of Sens
(1141). Bernard secured Arnold's expulsion from France.
In 1143 the Roman nobles had thrown off the temporal control
of the papacy and established what they believed to be a
revival of the Senate. To Rome Arnold went. He was not
a political leader so much as a preacher of "apostolic poverty."
In 1145 Eugene III restored Arnold to church fellowship, but
by 1147, Arnold and the Romans had driven Eugene out of
248 RADICAL REFORMERS
the city. There Arnold remained influential till the accession
of the vigorous Hadrian IV (1154-1159) — the only English
man who has ever occupied the papal throne. Hadrian, in
1155, compelled the Romans to expel Arnold by proclaiming
an interdict forbidding religious services in the city ; and bar
gained with the new German sovereign, Frederick Barbarossa
(1152-1190), for the destruction of Arnold as the price of im
perial coronation. In 1155 Arnold was hanged and his body
burned. Though charged with heresy, these accusations are
vague and seem to have had little substance. Arnold's real
offense was his attack upon the riches and temporal power of
the church.
Far more radical had been a preacher in southern France,
in the opening years of the twelfth century — Peter of Bruys,
of whose origin or early life little is known. With a strict as
ceticism he combined the denial of infant baptism, the rejec
tion of the Lord's Supper in any form, the repudiation of all
ceremonies and even of church buildings, and the rejection of
the cross, which should be condemned rather than honored
as the instrument through which Christ had suffered. Peter
also opposed prayers for the dead. Having burned crosses
in St. Gilles, he was himself burned by the mob at an uncertain
date, probably between 1120 and 1130. Reputed to be Peter's
disciple, but hardly so to be regarded was Henry, called "of
Lausanne," once a Benedictine monk, who preached, with large
following, from 1101 till his death after 1145, in western and
especially southern France. Above all, a preacher of ascetic
righteousness, he denied in ancient Donatist spirit the validity
of sacraments administered by unworthy priests. His test of
worthiness was ascetic life and apostolic poverty. By this
standard he condemned the wealthy and power-seeking clergy.
Arnold, Peter, and Henry have been proclaimed Protestants
before the Reformation. To do so is to misunderstand them.
Their conception of salvation was essentially mediaeval. They
carried to a radical extreme a criticism of the worldly aspects
of clerical life which was widely shared and had its more con
servative manifestation in the life and teachings of Bernard.
THE CATHARI 249
SECTION III. ANTICHURCHLY SECTS. CATHARI AND WAL-
DENSES. THE INQUISITION
The Manichseism of the later Roman Empire, of which
Augustine was f once an adherent (ante, pp. 107, 176), seems
never absolutely to have died out in the West. It was stimu
lated by; the accession of Paulicians and Bogomiles (ante, p. 235)
whom the persecuting policy of the Eastern Emperors drove
from Bulgaria, and by the new intercourse with the East fos
tered by the Crusades. The result was a new Manichseism.
Its adherents were called Cathari, as the "Pure," or Albigenses,
from Albi, one of their chief seats in southern France. With the
ascetic and enthusiastic impulse which caused and accompanied
the Crusades, the Cathari rose to great activity. Though
to be found in many parts of Europe, their chief regions were
southern France, northern Italy, and northern Spain. In
southern France, Bernard himself labored in vain for their con
version. \Vith the criticism of existing churchly conditions
consequent upon the disastrous failure of the Second Crusade
(ante, p. 242), they multiplied with great rapidity. In 1167
they were able to hold a widely attended council in St. Felix
de Caraman, near Toulouse ; and before the end of the century
they had won the support of a large section, possibly a majority,
of the population of southern France and the protection of its
princes. In northern Italy they were very numerous. The
Cathari in Florence alone in 1228 counted nearly one-third of
the inhabitants. By the year 1200 they were an exceeding peril
for the Roman Church. In the movement the ascetic spirit
of the age found full expression, and criticism of the wealth
and power of the church saw satisfaction in complete rejection
of its clergy and claims.
Like the ancient Manichses, the Cathari were dualists. The
Bogomiles and many of the Cathari of Italy held that the good
God had two sons, Satanel and Christ — of whom the elder re
belled and became the leader of evil. The Cathari of France
generally asserted two eternal powers, the one good, the other
malign. All agreed that this visible world is the work of the
evil power, in which souls, taken prisoners from the realm of
the good God, are held in bondage. The greatest of sins, the
original sin of Adam and Eve, is human reproduction, whereby
the number of prison-houses is increased. Salvation is by re-
250 THE CATHARI
pentance, asceticism, and the "consolation." This rite, like
baptism in the church, works forgiveness of sins and restora
tion to the kingdom of the good God. It is conferred by laying
on of hands by one who has received it, together with placing
the Gospel of John on the head of the candidate. It is the
true apostolical succession. One who has received the "con
solation" becomes perfect, a perfectus; but lest he lose the grace,
he must henceforth eschew marriage, avoid oaths, war, posses
sion of property, and the eating of meat, milk, or eggs, since they
are the product of the sin of reproduction. The "perfect,"
or, as they were called in France, the bons hommes — good men —
were the real clergy of the Cathari, and there are notices of
"bishops" and even of a "Pope" among them, though exactly
what the gradations in authority were it is impossible to say.
By a convenient belief the majority of adherents, the credenti
or "believers," were allowed to marry, hold property, and en
joy the good things of this world, even outwardly to conform
to the Roman Church, assured that, should they receive the
"consolation" before death, they would be saved. Those who
died unconsoled would, in the opinion of most of the Cathari,
be reincarnated in human, or even animal, bodies till at last
they, too, should be brought to salvation. The "believers"
seem not always to have been fully initiated into the tenets of
the system.
The Cathari made great use of Scripture, which they trans
lated and in which they claimed to find their teachings. Some
rejected the Old Testament entirely as the work of the evil
power, others accepted the Psalms and the prophets. All be
lieved the New Testament to come from the good God. Since
all things material are of evil, Christ could not have had a real
body or died a real death. They therefore rejected the cross.
The sacraments, with their material elements, were evil. The
good God is dishonored by the erection of churches built and
ornamented with material creations of the evil power. The
services of the Cathari were simple. The Scriptures were
read, especially the Gospel of John, as the most spiritual of
all. A sermon was preached. The "believers" then knelt
and adored the "perfect" as those indwelt with the divine
Spirit. The "perfect," in turn, gave their blessing. Only the
Lord's Prayer was used in the service. A common meal, at
which the bread was consecrated, was held in many places
THE WALDENSES 251
once a month, as a kind of Lord's Supper. The student of the
movement will find in it extremely interesting survivals of
ancient Christian rites and ceremonies, orthodox and heretical.
In general, the "perfect" seem to have been men and women
of uprightness! moral earnestness, and courageous steadfast
ness in persecution. Of their effectiveness in gaining the alle
giance of thousands, especially from the humbler walks of life,
there can be no question.
Unlike the Cathari, the Waldenses originated in no conscious
hostility to the church and, had they been treated with skill,
would probably never have separated from it. In 1176 Valdez,
or Waldo, a rich merchant of Lyons, impressed by the song of
a wandering minstrel recounting the sacrifices of St. Alexis,
asked a master of theology "the best way to God." The clergy
man quoted that golden text of monasticism : " If thou wouldst
be perfect, go, sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou
shalt have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me."1 Val
dez put this counsel literally into practice. Providing modestly
for his wife and daughters, he gave the rest of his means to the
poor. He determined to fulfil the directions of Christ to the
Apostles2 absolutely. He would wear the raiment there desig
nated. He would live by what was given him. To know his
duty better he procured a translation of the New Testament.
His action made a deep impression on his friends. Here, they
thought, was true "apostolic poverty." By 1177 he was
joined by others, men and women, and the little company
undertook to carry further Christ's directions by preaching
repentance. They called themselves the "Poor in Spirit." 3
They now appealed to the Third Lateran Council, in 1179, for
permission to preach. The council did not deem them heret
ical. It thought them ignorant laymen, and Pope Alexander
III (1159-1181) refused consent. This led to decisive action.
Valdez, who appears in what is known of his later history as
determined, not to say obstinate, felt that this refusal was the
voice of man against that of God. He and his associates con
tinued preaching. As disobedient, they were, therefore, ex
communicated, in 1184, by Pope Lucius III (1181-1185).
These unwise acts of the papacy not only forced the Wal
denses out of the church against their will, they brought to
them a considerable accession. The Humiliati were a company
1 Matt. 1921. 2 Matt. 10. 3 Probably from Matt. 53.
252 THE WALDENSES
of lowly folk who had associated themselves for a common life
of penance in and about Milan. These, too, were forbidden
to hold separate meetings, or to preach, by Alexander III,
and were excommunicated in 1184 for disobedience. A very
considerable part of these Lombard Humiliati now joined the
Waldenses, and came under the control of Valdez. The early
characteristics of the Waldenses now rapidly developed. Chief
of all was the principle that the Bible, and especially the New
Testament, is the sole rule of belief and life. Yet they read it
through thoroughly mediaeval spectacles. It was to them a
book of law — of minute prescriptions, to be followed to the
letter. Large portions were learned by heart. In accordance
with what they believed to be its teachings they went about,
two by two, preaching, clad in a simple woollen robe, bare
footed or wearing sandals, living wholly on the gifts of their
hearers, fasting on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, reject
ing oaths and all shedding of blood, and using no prayers but
the Lord's and a form of grace at table. They heard confes
sions, observed the Lord's Supper together, and ordained their
members as a ministry. As unbiblical, they rejected masses
and prayers for the dead, and denied purgatory. They held
the sacraments invalid if dispensed by unworthy priests. They
believed prayer in secret more effective than in church. They
defended lay preaching by men and women. They had
bishops, priests, and deacons, and a head, or rector, of the
society. The first was Valdez himself; later appointment
was by election. Besides this inner circle, the society proper,
they soon developed a body of sympathizers, " friends" or "be
lievers," from whom the society was recruited, but who re
mained outwardly in communion with the Roman Church.
Most of this development seems to have been immediately sub
sequent to their excommunication in 1184. Much of it was
due to Catharite example, yet they opposed the Cathari and
justly regarded themselves as widely different.
Certain conflicts of opinion, and a feeling that the govern
ment of Valdez was arbitrary, led to the secession of the Lom
bard branch by 1210 — a breach that attempts at reunion in
1218, after Valdez's death, failed to heal. The two bodies
remained estranged. The able Pope, Innocent III (1198-1216),
improved these disputes by countenancing in 1208 the organ
ization of pauper es catholici, which allowed many of the prac-
CRUSADE AGAINST THE CATHARI 253
tices of the Waldenses under strict churchly oversight. Con
siderable numbers were thus won back to the church. Never
theless, the Waldensian body spread. Waldenses were to be
found in northern Spain, in Austria and Germany, as well as
in their original homes. They were gradually repressed, till
their chief seat came to be the Alpine valleys southwest of
Turin, where they are still to be found. At the Reformation
they rea'dily accepted its principles, and became fully Protes
tant. Under modern religious freedom they are laboring with
success in many parts of Italy. Their story is one of heroic
endurance of persecution — a most honorable history — and they
are the only mediaeval sect which still survives, though with
wide modification of their original ideals and methods.
By the opening of the thirteenth century the situation of the
Roman Church in southern France, northern Italy, and north
ern Spain was dubious. Missionary efforts to convert Cathari
and Waldenses had largely failed. It was felt that sharper
measures were needed. A crusade was ordered as early as
1181 by Pope Alexander III (1159-1181), against the viscount
of Beziers as a supporter of the Cathari, but it accomplished
little. Under Innocent III (1198-1216) the storm broke.
After having vainly tried missionary efforts, the murder of the
papal legate, Peter of Castelnau, in 1208, induced Innocent to
proclaim a crusade against the heretics of southern France.
The attack was agreeable to the French monarchy, which had
found the nobles of the region too independent vassals. These
combined interests of Pope and King led to twenty years of
destructive warfare (1209-1229), in which the power of the
southern nobles was shattered and cities and provinces devas
tated. The defenders of the Cathari were rendered impo
tent or compelled to join in their extermination.
The termination of the struggle was followed by a synod of
much importance held in Toulouse in 1229. The Cathari and
Waldenses had made much use of the Bible. The synod, there
fore, forbad the laity to possess the Scriptures, except the
psalter and such portions as are contained in the breviary,
and especially denounced all translations. The decree was,
indeed, local, but similar considerations led to like prohibitions
in Spain and elsewhere. No universal denial of Bible reading
by the laity was issued during the Middle Ages.
A second act of significance which marked the synod of Tou-
254 THE INQUISITION
louse was the beginning of a systematic inquisition. The ques
tion of the punishment of heretics had been undetermined in
the earlier Middle Ages. There had been a good many instances
of death, generally by fire, at the hands of rulers, churchmen,
or the mob, but ecclesiastics of high standing had opposed.
The identification of the Cathari with the Manichseans, against
whom the later Roman Emperors had denounced the death
penalty, gave such punishment the sanction of Roman law.
Peter II of Aragon, in 1197, ordered the execution of heretics
by fire. Pope Innocent III (1198-1216) held that heresy, as
treason against God, was of even greater heinousness than
treason against a King. The investigation of heresy was not
as yet systematized. That task the synod of Toulouse under
took. Its work was speedily perfected by Pope Gregory IX
(1227-1241), who intrusted the discovery of heresy to inquisi
tors chosen chiefly from the Dominican order — a body formed
with very different aims. As speedily developed, the inquisi
tion became a most formidable organ. Its proceedings were
secret, the names of his accusers were not given to the prisoner,
who, by a bull of Innocent IV, in 1252, was liable to torture.
The confiscation of the convict's property was one of its most
odious and economically destructive features, and, as these
spoils were shared by the lay authorities, this feature undoubt
edly kept the fires of persecution burning where otherwise they
would have died out. Yet, thanks to the inquisition, and other
more praiseworthy means shortly to be described, the Cathari
were utterly rooted out in the course of a little more than a
century, and the Waldenses greatly repressed. This earlier
success accounts, in large measure, for the tenacity with which
the Roman Church clung to the inquisition in the Reformation
age.
SECTION IV. THE DOMINICANS AND FRANCISCANS
The Cathari and Waldenses profoundly affected the medi
aeval church. Out of an attempt to meet them by preachers
of equal devotion, asceticism, and zeal, and of greater learning,
grew the order of the Dominicans. In the same atmosphere
of "apostolic poverty" and literal fulfilment of the commands
of Christ in which the Waldenses flourished, the Franciscans
had their birth. In these two orders mediaeval monasticism
DOMINIC AND THE DOMINICANS 255
had its noblest exemplification. In Francis of Assisi mediaeval
piety had its highest and most inspiring representative.
Dominic was a native of Calaroga, in Castile, and was born
in 1170. A brilliant student in Palencia, and a youth of deep
religious spirit, * he becamo a canon of Osma, about ninety
miles northeast of Madrid. From 1201 he enjoyed the friend
ship of a ^kindred spirit, Diego of Acevedo, the bishop of Osma.
The two journeyed on political business in 1203 through south
ern France, where the Cathari were then in the height of their
power. There they found the Roman missionaries treated
with contempt. At a meeting with these missionary leaders
in Montpellier, in 1204, Diego urged a thorough reform of
method. Only by missionaries as self-denying, as studious of
"apostolic poverty," and as eager to preach as the "perfect"
of the Cathari, could these wanderers be won back to the Roman
fold. Moved by the bishop's exhortation, the missionaries
endeavored to put his advice into practice. A nunnery, chiefly
for converted Catharite women, was established in 1206, in
Prouille, not far from Toulouse. Thus far Diego seems to have
been the leader, but he had to return to his diocese, and died
in 1207. Thenceforward Dominic carried on the work. The
storm of the great anti-Cathari war made it most discouraging.
Dominic was tempted by the offer of bishoprics to leave so
thankless a task, but he persisted. He would take the Apostle
Paul as his model. He would win the people by prea'ching.
Gradually he gathered like-minded men about him. In 1215
friends presented them a house in Toulouse. The same year
Dominic visited the Fourth Lateran Council in Rome, seeking
papal approval for a new order. It was refused, though his
efforts were commended, and he now adopted the so-called
"Rule" of St. Augustine. Recognition amounting to the
practical establishment of the order was, however, obtained
from Pope Honorius III (1216-1227) in 1216.
Even in 1217, when the new association numbered but a
few, Dominic determined to send his preachers widely. With
a view to influencing future leaders, he directed them first to
the great centres of education, Paris, Rome, and Bologna.
The order grew with amazing rapidity. Its first general chap
ter was held in Bologna in 1220. Here, under the influence of
Franciscan example, it adopted the principle of mendicancy—
the members should beg even their daily food. By this chap-
256 DOMINIC AND THE DOMINICANS
ter, or that of the following year, the constitution of the "Or
der of Preachers/' or Dominicans, as they were popularly called,
was developed. At the head was a "master-general," chosen
by the general chapter, originally for life. The field was di
vided into "provinces," each in charge of a "provincial prior,"
elected for a four-year term by the provincial chapter. Each
monastery chose a "prior," also for four years. The general
chapter included the "master-general," the "provincial
priors," and an elected delegate from each province. The
system was one, therefore, that combined ingeniously authority
and representative government. It embraced monasteries for
men, and nunneries for women, though the latter were not to
preach, but ultimately developed large teaching activities.
Dominic died in 1221. The order then numbered sixty
houses, divided among the eight provinces of Provence, Tou
louse, France, Lombardy, Rome, Spain, Germany, and Eng
land, and for years thereafter it increased rapidly. Always
zealous for learning, it emphasized preaching and teaching,
sought work especially in university towns, and soon became
widely represented on the university faculties. Albertus Mag
nus and Thomas Aquinas, the theologians ; Eckhart and Tauler,
the mystics; Savonarola, the reformer, are but a few of the
great names that adorn the catalogue of Dominicans. Their
learning led to their employment as inquisitors — a use that
formed no part of Dominic's ideal. The legends which represent
him as an inquisitor are baseless. He would win men, as did
his example, Paul, by preaching. To achieve that result he
would undergo whatever sacrifice or asceticism that would
make his preachers acceptable to those whom they sought.
Yet it is evident that lowly, self-sacrificing and democratic as
were Dominic's aims, the high intellectualism of his order
tended to give it a relatively aristocratic flavor. It represented,
however, an emphasis on work for others, such as had ap
peared in the Waldenses. Its ideal was not contemplation
apart from the world, but access to men in their needs.
Great as was the honor paid to Dominic and the Dominicans,
it was exceeded by the popular homage given to the Francis
cans, arid especially to their founder. The austere preacher,
of blameless youth, planning how he may best reach men, and
adopting poverty as a means to that end, is not so winsome a
figure as that of the gay, careless young man who sacrifices all
FRANCIS OF ASSISI 257
for Christ and his fellows, and adopts poverty not as a recom
mendation of his message, but as the only means of being like
his Master. In Francis of Assisi is to be seen not merely the
greatest of mediaeval saints, but one, who through his absolute
sincerity of desire to imitate Christ in all things humanly pos
sible, belongs to all ages and to the church universal.
Giovanni Bernadone was born in 1181 or 1182, the son of a
cloth merchant of Assisi, in central Italy. To the boy the
nickname Francesco — Francis — was given, and soon sup
planted that bestowed on him in baptism. His father, a seri
ous man of business, was little pleased to see the son leading
in the mischief and revelry of his young companions. A
year's experiences as a prisoner of war in Perugia, following a
defeat in which he had fought on the side of the common people
of Assisi, against the nobles, wrought no change in his life. A
serious illness began to develop another side of his character.
He joined a military expedition to Apulia, but withdrew, for
what reason is not evident. His conversion was a gradual proc
ess. " When I was yet in my sins it did seem to me too bitter
to look upon the lepers, but the Lord Himself did lead me
among them, and I had compassion upon them. When I left
them, that which had seemed to me bitter had become sweet and
easy." l This note of Christ-like compassion was that to
which Francis's renewed nature first responded. On a pil
grimage to Rome he thought he heard the divine command to
restore the fallen house of God. Taking it literally, he sold
cloth from his father's warehouse to rebuild the ruined church
of St. Damian, near Assisi. Francis's father, thoroughly dis
gusted with his unbusinesslike ways, now took him before the
bishop to be disinherited; but Francis declared that he had
henceforth no father but the Father in heaven. This event
was probably in 1206 or 1207.
For the next two years Francis wandered in and about Assisi,
aiding the unfortunate, and restoring churches, of which his
favorite was the Portiuncula, in the plain outside the town.
There, in 1209, the words of Christ to the Apostles,2 read in the
service, came to him, as they had to Valdez, as a trumpet-call
to action. He would preach repentance and the kingdom of
1 Testament of Francis. Highly illuminative as to his spirit and pur
poses. Robinson, Readings, 1 : 392-395.
2 Matt. 107-14.
258 FRANCIS OF ASSISI
God, without money, in the plainest of garments, eating what
might be set before him. He would imitate Christ and obey
Christ's commands, in absolute poverty, in Christ-like love, and
in humbled deference to the priests as His representatives.
"The Most High Himself revealed to me that I ought to live
according to the model of the holy Gospel." Like-minded as
sociates gathered about him. For them he drafted a "Rule,"
composed of little besides selections from Christ's commands,
and with it, accompanied by eleven or twelve companions, he
applied to Pope Innocent III for approval. It was practically
the same request that Valdez had preferred in vain in 1179.
But Innocent was now trying to win some of the Waldenses for
the church, and Francis was not refused. The associates now
called themselves the Penitents of Assisi, a name for which, by
1216, Francis had substituted that of the Minor, or Humbler,
Brethren, by which they were henceforth to be known.
Francis's association was a union of imitators of Christ, bound
together by love and practising the utmost poverty, since only
thus, he believed, could the world be denied and Christ really
followed. Two by two, they went about preaching repentance,
singing much, aiding the peasants in their work, caring for the
lepers and outcasts. "Let those who know no trade learn one,
but not for the purpose of receiving the price of their toil, but
for their good example and to flee idleness. And when we are
not given the price of our work, let us resort to the table of the
Lord, begging our bread from door to door." 1 Soon wide-
reaching missionary plans were formed, which the rapid growth
of the association made possible of attempting. Francis him
self, prevented by illness from reaching the Mohammedans
through Spain, went to Egypt in 1219, in the wake of a crusading
expedition, and actually preached before the Sultan.
Francis himself was little of an organizer. The free associa
tion was increasing enormously. What were adequate rules
for a handful of like-minded brethren were soon insufficient for
a body numbering several thousands. Change would have
come in any event. It was hastened, however, by the organiz
ing talents of Cardinal Ugolino of Ostia, the later Pope Greg
ory IX (1227-1241), who had befriended Francis, and whose
appointment Francis secured as "protector" of the society.
Under Ugolino's influence, and that of Brother Elias of Cortona,
1 Testament.
THE FRANCISCANS 259
the transformation of the association into a full monastic order
went rapidly forward. From the time of Francis's absence in
Egypt and Syria in 1219 and 1220, his real leadership ceased.
A new rule was adopted in 1221, and a third in 1223. In the
latter, emphasis f was no longer laid on preaching, and begging
was established as the normal, not the exceptional, practice.
Already, jn 1219, provinces had been established, each in charge
of a "minister." Papal directions, in 1220, had prescribed obe
dience to the order's officers, established a novitiate, a fixed
costume, and irrevocable vows.
Probably most of these changes were inevitable. They were
unquestionably a grief to Francis, though whether so deeply as
has often been contended is doubtful. He was always deferen
tial to ecclesiastical authority, and seems to have regarded
these modifications more with regret than with actual opposi
tion. He withdrew increasingly from the world. He was much
in prayer and singing. His love of nature, in which he was far
in advance of his age, was never more manifest. Feeble in
body, he longed to be present with Christ. He bore what
men believed to be the reproduction of Christ's wounds. How
they may have been received is an unsolved, and perhaps
insoluble, problem. On October 3, 1226, he died in the church
of Portiuncula. Two years later he was proclaimed a saint by
Pope Gregory IX. Few men in Christian history have more
richly deserved the title.
In organization, by Francis's death, the Franciscans were
like the Dominicans. At the head stood a "minister general"
chosen for twelve years. Over each "province" was a "pro
vincial minister," and over each group a "custos," for, unlike
the Dominicans, the Franciscans did not at first possess houses.
As with the Dominicans, provincial and general chapters were
held by which officers were chosen and legislation achieved.
Like the Dominicans, also, the Franciscans had almost from
the first, their feminine branch — the so-called "second order."
That of the Franciscans was instituted by Francis himself, in
1212, through his friend and disciple, Clara Sciffi of Assisi
(1194-1253). The growth of the Franciscans was extremely
rapid, and though they soon counted many distinguished
scholars, they were always more democratic, more the order of
the poor, than the Dominicans.
The Dominicans and Franciscans, known respectively as
260 THE TERTIARIES
Black Friars and Gray Friars in England, soon exercised an
almost unbounded popular influence. Unlike the older orders,
they labored primarily in the cities. There can be no doubt
that their work resulted in a great strengthening of religion
among the laity. At the same time they undermined the in
fluence of the bishops and ordinary clergy, since they were
privileged to preach and absolve anywhere. They thus
strengthened the power of the papacy by diminishing that of
the ordinary clergy. One chief influence upon the laity was
the development of the "Tertiaries" or "third orders" — a
phenomenon which first appeared in connection with the
Franciscans, though the tradition which connects it with
Francis himself is probably baseless. The "third order" per
mitted men and women, still engaged in ordinary occupations,
to live a semi-monastic life of fasting, prayer, worship, and be
nevolence. A conspicuous illustration is St. Elizabeth of Thu-
ringia (1207-1231). Ultimately all the mendicant orders de
veloped Tertiaries. As time went on the system tended to
become an almost complete monasticism, from which the mar
ried were excluded. It must be regarded as a very successful
attempt to meet the religious ideals of an age which regarded
the monastic as the true Christian life.
The piety of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries found many
expressions other than through the Dominicans and Francis
cans. One important manifestation, especially in the Nether
lands, Germany, and France, was through the Beguines — associ
ations of women living in semi-monastic fashion, but not bound
by irrevocable vows. They seem to have received their name
from those hostile to them in memory of the preacher of Liege,
Lambert le Begue, who was regarded as having been a heretic;
and the Beguine movement undoubtedly often sheltered anti-
churchly sympathizers. It was in the main orthodox, however,
and spread widely, existing in the Netherlands to the present.
Its loose organization made effective discipline difficult, and,
in general, its course was one of deterioration. A parallel,
though less popular, system of men's associations was that of
the Beghards.
The divisions in the Franciscan order, which had appeared
in Francis's lifetime between those who would emphasize a
simple life of Christ-like poverty and those who valued numbers,
power, and influence, were but intensified with his death. The
DIVISIONS AMONG THE FRANCISCANS 261
stricter party found a leader in Brother Leo, the looser in Elias
of Cortona. The papal policy favored the looser, since ecclesi
astical politics would be advanced by the growth and con
solidation of the order along the lines of earlier monasticism.
The quarrel became increasingly embittered. The use of gifts
and buildings was secured by the laxer party on the claim that
they wene held not by the order itself but by "friends." Pope
Innocent IV (1243-1254), in 1245, allowed such use, with the
reservation that it was the property of the Roman Church, not
of the order. These tendencies the stricter party vigorously
opposed. But that party itself fell into dubious orthodoxy.
Joachim of Floris, in extreme southern Italy (1145?-1202), a
Cistercian abbot who had been reputed a prophet, had divided
the history of the world into three ages, those of the Father, the
Son, and the Holy Spirit. That of the Spirit was to come in
full power in 1260. It was to be an age of men who understood
"the eternal Gospel" — not a new Gospel, but the old, spiritu
ally interpreted. Its form of life was to be monastic. In the
sixth decade of the thirteenth century many of the stricter
Franciscans adopted these views and were persecuted not
merely by the laxer element, but by the moderates, who ob
tained leadership when Bonaventura was chosen general min
ister in 1257. These stricter friars of prophetic faith were
nicknamed "Spirituals." Under Pope John XXII (1316-1334)
some of the party were burned by the inquisition in 1318.
During his papacy a further quarrel arose as to whether the
poverty of Christ and the Apostles was complete. John XXII
decided in 1322 in favor of the laxer view, and imprisoned the
great English schoolman, William of Occam, and other asserters
of Christ's absolute poverty. The quarrel was irreconcilable,
and finally Pope Leo X (1513-1521) formally recognized the
division of the Franciscans in 1517 into "Observant," or strict,
and "Conventual," or loose sections, each with its distinct
officers and general chapters.
SECTION V. EARLY SCHOLASTICISM
The educational work of cathedral and monastic schools has
already been noted in connection with Bede, Alcuin, and Hra-
banus Maurus (ante, pp. 200, 207, 210). It was long simply
imitative and reproductive of the teaching of the Church Fa-
262 THE BEGINNINGS OF SCHOLASTICISM
thers, especially of Augustine and Gregory the Great. Save in
the case of John Scotus Erigena (ante, p. 210), it showed little
that was original. Schools, however, increased, especially in
France in the eleventh century, and with their multiplication
came an application of the methods of logic, or of dialectics,
to the discussion of theological problems which resulted in
fresh and fertile intellectual development. Since it originated
in the schools, the movement was known as "Scholasticism."
Most of the knowledge of dialectic method was at first de
rived from scanty translations of portions of Aristotle's writ
ings and of Porphyry's Isagoge, both the work of Boetius
(480?-524).
The development of Scholasticism was inaugurated and ac
companied by a discussion as to the nature of "universals"
— that is as to the existence of genera and species — a debate
occasioned by Porphyry's Isagoge. Three positions might be
taken. The extreme "realists," following Platonic influences
(ante, p. 3), asserted that universals existed apart from and
antecedent to the individual objects — ante rem, i. e., the genus
man was anterior to and determinative of the individual man.
The moderate "realists," under the guidance of Aristotle (ante,
p. 4), taught that universals existed only in connection with
individual objects — in re. The "nominalists," following Stoic
precedent, held that universals were only abstract names for
the resemblances of individuals, and had no other existence
than in thought — post rem. The only real existence for them
was the individual object. This quarrel between "realism"
and "nominalism" continued throughout the scholastic period
and profoundly influenced its theological conclusions.
The first considerable scholastic controversy was a renewal
of the dispute once held between Paschasius Radbertus and
Ratramnus as to the nature of Christ's presence in the Lord's
Supper (ante, p. 211). Berengar (?-1088), head of the cathe
dral school in Tours about 1049, attacked the prevalent con
ception that the elements are changed as to substance into the
actual body and blood of Christ. His position was essentially
nominalist. Berengar was immediately opposed by Lanfranc
(?-1089), then prior of the monastery of Bee in Normandy,
and to be William the Conqueror's celebrated archbishop of
Canterbury. Berengar was condemned at the Roman synod of
1050. He conformed and was restored in 1059. About ten
ANSELM 263
years later he reasserted his opinions, but once more withdrew
them in 1079, only to declare them again. The discussion
showed that the view soon to be known as " transubstanti-
ation" had become the dominant opinion in Latin Christen
dom. It was to have full approval at the Fourth Lateran
Council in 1215, where it was given the highest dogmatic
standing.
Berengar's dialectic methods were employed, with very
dissimilar results, by Anselm, who has often been called the
Father of the Schoolmen. Born in Aosta in northern Italy
about 1033, Anselm became a monk under Lanfranc in Bee,
whom he succeeded as prior. Under him the school of Bee
attained great distinction. In 1093 he became archbishop of
Canterbury — having a stormy episcopate by reason of his
Hildebrandian principles. He died in office in 1109. As a
theologian, Anselm was an extreme realist, and was more
over convinced of the full capacity of a proper dialectic to
prove the truths of theology. His famous ontological demon
stration of^the existence of God is at once realistic and Neo-
Platonic. As set forth in his Proslogion, God is the greatest
of all beings. He must exist in reality as well as in thought,
for if He existed in thought only, a yet greater being, existing
in reality as well as in thought, could be conceived; which is
impossible./ This proof, which aroused the opposition of
Gaunilo, a monk of Marmoutiers, in Anselm's lifetime, seems
to most a play on words, though its permanent validity has
not lacked defenders.
Anselm next directed his attention to Roscelin, a canon of
Compiegne, who, under nominalistic influence, had asserted
that either the Father, Son, and Spirit are identical or are three
Gods. At a synod held in Soissons in 1092 Roscelin was com
pelled to abjure tritheism. Anselm now declared that nomi
nalism was essentially heretical, and that view was the preva
lent one for the next two centuries.
Anselm's most influential contribution to theology was his
discussion of the atonement in his Cur Deus-Jiomo, the ablest
treatment that had yet appeared. Anselm totally rejected
any thought, such as the early church had entertained, of a
ransom paid to the devil. Man, by sin, has done dishonor to
God. His debt is to God alone. Anselm's view is feudal.
God's nature demands satisfaction. Man, who owes obedi-
264 ANSELM AND ABELARD
ence at all times, has nothing wherewith to make good past
disobedience. Yet, if satisfaction is to be made at all, it can
be rendered only by one who shares human nature, who is
Himself man, and yet as God has something of infinite value
to offer. Such a being is the God-man. Not only is His sacri
fice a satisfaction, it deserves a reward. That reward is the
eternal blessedness of His brethren. Anselm's widely influen
tial theory rests ultimately on the realistic conviction that
there is such an objective existence as humanity which Christ
could assume.
Anselm was of devout spirit, fully convinced that dialectic
explanation could but buttress the doctrines of the church.
"I believe, that I may understand," is a motto that expresses
his attitude. The same high realist position was maintained
by William of Champeaux (1070 ?-1121), who brought the school
of St. Victor, near Paris, into great repute, and died as bishop
of Chalons.
The ablest use of the dialectic method in the twelfth century
was made by Abelard (1079-1142), a man of irritating method,
vanity, and critical spirit, but by no means of irreligion. Born
in Pallet, in Brittany, he studied under Roscelin and William
of Champeaux, both of whom he opposed and undoubtedly far
surpassed in ability. On the vexed question of the universals
he took a position intermediate between the nominalism of one
teacher and the realism of the other, though leaning rather to
the nominalist side. Only individuals exist, but genera and
species are more than names. Hence he is usually called a
"conceptualist," though he gave universals greater value than
mere mental conceptions.
Abelard 's life was stormy. By the age of twenty-two he
was teaching with great following in Melun, near Paris. By
1115 he was a canon of Notre Dame, with a following in Paris
such as no lecturer had yet enjoyed. He fell in love with
Heloise — the niece of his fellow canon, Fulbert — a woman of
singular devotion of nature. With her he entered into a secret
marriage. The enraged uncle, believing his niece deceived,
revenged himself by having Abelard emasculated, and thus
barred from clerical advancement. Abelard now became a
monk. To teach was his breath of life, however, and he soon
resumed lecturing. A reply to Roscelin's tritheism leaned so
far in the other direction that his enemies charged him with
ABELARD 265
Sabellianism, and his views were condemned at a synod in
Soissons in 1121. His criticisms of the traditional career of
St. Denis made the monastery of St. Denis an uncomfortable
place of abode, and he now sought a hermit's life. Students
gathered about? him and founded a little settlement which he
called the Paraclete. His criticisms had aroused, however, the
hostility, of that most powerful religious leader of the age, the
orthodox traditionalist Bernard, and he now sought refuge as
abbot of the rough monastery in Rhuys, in remote Brittany.
Yet he left this retreat to lecture for a while in Paris, and en
gaged in a correspondence with Heloise, who had become the
head of a little nunnery at the Paraclete, which is the most in
teresting record of affection — especially on the part of Heloise
— which the Middle Ages has preserved. Bernard procured
his condemnation at the synod of Sens in 1141, and the rejec
tion of his appeal by Pope Innocent II. Abelard was now a
broken man. He made submission and found a friend in Peter,
the abbot of Cluny. In 1142 he died in one of the monasteries
under Cluny jurisdiction.
Abelard 's spirit was essentially critical. Without rejecting
the Fathers or the creeds, he held that all should be subjected
to philosophical examination, and not lightly believed. His
work, Sic et non — Yes and No — setting against each other
contrary passages from the Fathers on the great doctrines,
without attempt at harmony or explanation, might well arouse
a feeling that he was a sower of doubts. His doctrine of the
Trinity was almost Sabellian. His teaching that man has in
herited not guilt but punishment from Adam was contrary to
the Augustinian tradition. His ethical theory that good and
evil inhere in the intention rather than in the act, disagreed
with current feeling. His belief that the philosophers of an
tiquity were sharers of divine revelation, howrever consonant
with ancient Christian opinion, was not that of his age. Nor
was Abelard less individual, though decidedly modern, in his
conception of the atonement. Like Anselm, he rejected all
ransom to the devil; but he repudiated Anselm's doctrine of
satisfaction no less energetically. In Abelard 's view the in
carnation and death of Christ are the highest expression of
God's love to men, the effect of which is to awaken love in us.
Abelard, though open to much criticism from the standpoint
of his age, was a profoundly stimulating spirit. His direct fol-
266 HUGO AND PETER LOMBARD
lowers were few, but his indirect influence was great, and the
impulse given by him to the dialectic method of theological
inquiry far-reaching.
A combination of a moderate use of the dialectic method with
intense Neo-Platonic mysticism is to be seen in the work of
Hugo of St. Victor (1097?-1141). A German by birth, his life
was uneventful. About 1115 he entered the monastery of St.
Victor, near Paris, where he rose to be head of its school. A
quiet, modest man, of profound learning and piety, his influence
was remarkable. He enjoyed the intimate friendship of Ber
nard. Probably his most significant works were his commen
tary on the Celestial Hierarchy of Pseudo-Dionysius the Are-
opagite (ante, p. 171) and his treatise On the Mysteries of the
Faith. In true mystic fashion he pictured spiritual progress
as in three stages — cogitation, the formation of sense-concepts;
meditation, their intellectual investigation; contemplation, the
intuitive penetration into their inner meaning. This last at
tainment is the true mystical vision of God, and the compre
hension of all things in Him.
No original genius, like Abelard and Hugo, but a man of
great intellectual service to his own age, and held in honor till
the Reformation, was Peter Lombard, "the Master of the
Sentences" (?-1160?). Born in humble circumstances in
northern Italy, Peter studied in Bologna and Paris, in part at
least aided by the generosity of Bernard. In Paris he became
ultimately teacher of theology in the school of Notre Dame,
and near the close of his life, in 1159, bishop of the Parisian
see. Whether he was ever a pupil of Abelard is uncertain;
but he was evidently greatly influenced by Abelard's works.
Under Hugo of St. Victor he certainly studied, and owed that
teacher much. Between 1147 and 1150 he wrote the work on
which his fame rests — the Four Books of Sentences. After the
well-accustomed fashion, he gathered citations from the creeds
and the Fathers on the several Christian doctrines. What was
fresh was that he proceeded to explain and interpret them by
the dialectic method, with great moderation and good sense,
and with constant reference to the opinions of his contempo
raries. He showed the influence of Abelard constantly, though
critical of that thinker's extremer positions. He was even more
indebted to Hugo of St. Victor. Under the four divisions, God,
Created Beings, Salvation, Sacraments and the Last Things,
RISE OF THE UNIVERSITIES 267
he discussed the whole round of theology. The result was a
handbook which so fully met the needs of the age that it
remained till the Reformation the main basis of theological
instruction.
Witn the middle of the twelfth century the first period of
Scholasticism was over. The schools continued in increasing
activity, but no creative geniuses appeared. The last half of
the century was distinguished, however, by the introduction
to the West, which had thus far had little of Aristotle, of the
greater part of his works and of much Greek philosophy besides,
by the Jews of Spain and southern France, who, in turn, derived
them from the Arabs. The Latin conquest of Constantinople,
in 1204 (ante, p. 243), led ultimately to direct translations from
the originals. The result was to be a new and greater out
burst of scholastic activity in the thirteenth century.
SECTION VI. THE UNIVERSITIES
Cathedral and monastic schools were never more flourishing
than in the twelfth century. Teachers were multiplying and
gathering about them students. Anselm, Abelard, William of
Champeaux, Hugo of St. Victor, and Peter Lombard were sim
ply the most eminent of a host. Students flocked to them in
large numbers from all parts of Europe. Paris and Oxford
were famed for theology, Bologna for church and civil law,
Salerno for medicine. Under these circumstances the univer
sities developed in a manner which it is difficult exactly to date.
The change which they implied was not the establishment of
teaching where none had been before, but the association of
students and teachers into a collective body, after the fashion
of a trade guild, primarily for protection and good order, but
also for more efficient management and the regulation of ad
mission to the teaching profession. In its educational capacity,
such a group was often called a studium generate. The begin
nings of university organization — which must be distinguished
from the commencement of teaching — may be placed about
the year 1200.
By the close of the twelfth century there were in Bologna
two "universities," or mutual protective associations of stu
dents. The organization in Paris became normal, however,
for northern Europe. Its earliest rules date from about 1208,
268 THE UNIVERSITIES
and its recognition as a legal corporation from a letter of Pope
Innocent III of about 1211. In Paris there was a single "uni
versity," originally formed by the union of the cathedral school
and the more private schools of the city, and divided for in
struction into four faculties — one preparatory, that of the
"arts," in which the trivium (grammar, rhetoric, and logic)
and the quadrivium (astronomy, arithmetic, geometry, and
music) were taught; and the three higher faculties of theology,
canon law, and medicine. Over each faculty a dean presided.
Besides this educational organization students and professors
were also grouped, for mutual aid, in "nations," each headed
by a proctor. These varied in number in the several institu
tions. In Paris they were four — the French, the Picards, the
Normans, and the English.
Teaching was principally by lecture and by constant debate,
a method which, whatever its shortcomings, rendered the stu
dent ready master of his knowledge, and brought talent to
light. The first degree, that of bachelor, was similar to an
admission to apprenticeship in a guild. The second degree,
that of master or doctor, resembling the master workman in
a guild, carried with it full authority to teach in the institution
where it was conferred, and soon, for the graduates of the
larger universities, to teach anywhere. The use of Latin as
the sole language of the classroom made possible the assembly
of students from all parts of Europe, and they flocked to the
more famous universities in immense numbers.
The needs of these students, many of whom were of extreme
poverty, ' early aroused the interest of benefactors. One of
the most influential and oldest foundations thus established
was that formed in Paris by Robert de Sorbon (1201-1274) in
1252. It provided a home and special teaching for poor stu
dents, under the guidance of "fellows" of the house. Such
establishments, soon known as "colleges," rapidly multiplied,
and gave shelter to the great majority of students, rich and
poor. The system still survives in the English universities.
So prominently was the Sorbonne identified with theological
instruction that its name came to be popularly, though errone
ously, attached to the faculty of theology in Paris. That uni
versity ranked till the Reformation as the leader of Europe,
especially in the theological studies.
Universities, many of which were short-lived, sprang up
THE GREAT SCHOOLMEN 269
with great rapidity. In general, they were regarded as eccle-
siastieal — authorization by the Pope being almost essential.
The most conspicuous early lay approval was that of Naples,
in 1225, by tli£ Emperor Frederick II.
SECTION VII. HIGH SCHOLASTICISM AND ITS THEOLOGY
The recovery of the whole of Aristotle, the rise of the uni
versities, and the devotion of the mendicant orders to learning,
ushered in a new period of Scholasticism in the thirteenth cen
tury, and marked the highest intellectual achievement of the
Middle Ages. The movement toward this "modern theology,"
as it was called, was not without much opposition, especially
from traditionalists and adherents to the Augustinian Neo-
Platonic development. Aristotle met much hostility. A
series of great thinkers, all from the mendicant orders, made
his victory secure. Yet even they, while relying primarily on
Aristotle, made much use of Plato as reflected in Augustine
and the Pseudo-Dionysius (ante, pp. 171, 266).
To Alexander of Haies (?-1245), an Englishman and ulti
mately a Franciscan, who taught in Paris, was due the treat
ment of theology in the light of the whole of Aristotle. Yet
to him the Scripture is the only final truth. With this new
period of Scholasticism a broader range of intellectual interest
is apparent than in the earlier, though the old problem between
realism and nominalism continued its pre-eminence. Alex
ander was a moderate realist. Universals exist ante rem in
the mind of God, in re in the things themselves, and -post rem
in our understanding. In this he was followed by Albertus
Magnus and Aquinas.
Albertus Magnus (1206?-1280), a German and a Dominican,
studied in Padua, and taught in many places in Germany,
but principally in Cologne. He served as provincial prior for
his order, and was, for a few years, bishop of Regensburg. The
most learned man of his age, his knowledge of science was really
remarkable. His acquaintance not merely with Aristotle, but
with the comments of Arabian scholars, was profounder than
that of Alexander of Hales. He was, however, a great com
piler and commentator rather than an original theological
genius. That which he taught was brought to far clearer ex
pression by his pupil, Thomas Aquinas.
270 THOMAS AQUINAS
Thomas Aquinas (1225?-1274) was a son of Landulf, count
of Aquino, a small town about half-way between Rome and
Naples. Connected with the German imperial house of Hohen-
staufen and with that of Tancred, the Norman Crusader, it
was against the wishes of his parents that Thomas entered the
Dominican order in 1243. His spiritual superiors were aware
of his promise, and sent him to Cologne to study under Albertus
Magnus, who soon took his pupil to Paris. On receiving the
degree of bachelor of divinity, Thomas returned to Cologne in
1248, and now taught as subordinate to Albertus Magnus.
These were years of rapid intellectual growth. Entrance into
the Paris faculty was long refused him on account of jealousy
of the mendicant orders, but in 1257 he was given full standing
there. From 1261 for some years he taught in Italy, then once
more in Paris, and finally, from 1272, in Naples. He died, on
his way to the Council of Lyons, in 1274. In these crowded
years of teaching Thomas was constantly consulted on im
portant civil and ecclesiastical questions, and was active in
preaching ; yet his pen was busy with results as voluminous as
they were important. His great Summa Theologies was begun
about 1265, and not fully completed at his death. Personally
he was a simple, deeply religious, prayerful man. Intellectually,
his work was marked by a clarity, a. logical consistency, and a
breadth of presentation that places him among the few great
teachers of the church. In the Roman communion Ms influence
has never ceased. JSyldeclaratioji^Qf ^Pope_Leo XIIJ (1878-
1 903) , in_ 1 871L_hi a work -is-theJbasis. _pj pre_s_ejit_JJieoJogical
instruction .
Closely associated with Aquinas in friendship and for a time
in teaching activities in the University of Paris, was John Fi-
danza (1221-1274), generally known as Bonaventura. Born in
Bagnorea, in the States of the Church, he entered the Franciscan
order in 1238, rising to become its "general" in 1257. A year
before his death he was made a cardinal. Famed as a teacher in
Paris, he was even more distinguished for his administration of
the Franciscan order and for his high character. Much less
an Aristotelian than Aquinas, he was especially influenced by
the Neo-Platonic teachings of Augustine and Pseudo-Dionysius.
He was essentially a mystic. By meditation and prayer one
may rise into that union with God which brings the highest
knowledge of divine truth. Yet, though a mystic, Bonaven-
AQUINAS'S THEOLOGY 271
tura was a theologian of dialectic ability whose work, more
conservative and less original than that of Aquinas, neverthe
less commanded high respect.
According tp Aquinas, in whom Scholasticism attained Jts
nobkst development, the aim of a.11 tfipnfngipa.1 invagtifmiW^U
to give knowledge _qf God ^ and_^fjQiaji!^-origin-^and destiny.
Such knowledge comes in part by_ceiison — natural theology—
but the attainments of reason are inadequate. They must be
augmented by revelation. That revelation is contained in_the
Scriptures, which are the only final authority ; but they are to
be understood in the light of the interpretations of the councils
and the Fathers — in a word, as comprehended by the church.
The truths of revelation cannot be attained by reason, but they
are not contrary to reason, and reason can show the inade
quacy of objections to them. Aquinas is thus far from sharing
Anselm's conviction that all truths of Christianity are philo
sophically demonstrable; but he holds that thei^e_£arjL_be_no-
contradiction between philosophy jand ..theology, since. both-axe
from God.
In treating of God Aquinas combined Aristotelian and Neo-
Platonic conceptions. He is the first cause. He is pure ac
tivity. He is also the most real and perfect of existences.
He is the absolute substance, the source and end of all things.
As perfect goodness, God does always that which He sees to
be right. Jjejgarding the Trinity ancL the person of -Christ,
Aquinas stood essentially on the basis of Augustine and the
Chalceojoman formula (ante, p. 151).
God needs, nothing, and therefore the creation oithe-wocld
was an expression of the divine love^which He bestows on the
e^isj:encesTIe^trras called into being. God's providence ex
tends to all events, and is manifested in the predestination of
some to everlasting life, and in leaving others to the conse
quences of sin in eternal condemnation. Aquinas's position is
largely determinist. Man has, indeed, in a certain sense, free
dom. His will acts ; but that does not preclude the determin
ing or permissive providence of God. The divine permission
of evil results in the higher good of the whole. Though sin is
no less sinful, its existence permits the development of many
virtues which go to make strength of character in those who
resist.
Aquinas abandoned the ancient distinction between "soul"
272 AQUINAS'S THEOLOGY
and "spirit." The soul of man is a unit, possessing intellect
and will. It is immaterial. Man's highest good is the vision
and enjoyment of God. As originally created man had, in
addition to his natural powers, a superadded gift which en
abled him to seek that highest good and practise the three
Christian virtues — faith, hope, and love. This Adam lost by
sin, which also corrupted his natural powers, so that his state
became not merely a lack of original righteousness, but a posi
tive turning toward lower aims. Sin is, therefore, more than
merely negative. In this fallen state it was impossible for
Adam to please God, and this corruption was transmitted to
all his posterity. Man still has the power to attain the four
natural virtues, prudence, justice, courage, and self-control ;
but these, though bringing a certain measure of temporal
honor and happiness, are not sufficient to enable their possessor
to attain the vision of God.
Man's restoration is possible only through the free and un
merited grace of God, by which man's nature is changed, his
sins forgiven, and power to practise the three Christian virtues
infused. No act of his can win this grace. While God could
conceivably have forgiven man's sins and granted grace without
the sacrifice of Christ — here Aquinas differed from Anselm —
the work of Christ was the wisest and most efficient method
God could choose, and man's whole redemption is based on
it. That work involved satisfaction for man's sin, and Christ
won a merit which deserves a reward. It also moves men to
love. Aquinas thus developed and combined views presented
by Anselm and Abelard. Christ's satisfaction superabounds
man's sin, and the reward which Christ cannot personally re
ceive, since as God He needs nothing, comes to the advantage
of His human brethren. Christ does for men what they can
not do for themselves.
Once redeemed, however, the good works that God's grace
now enables man to do deserve and receive a reward. Man
now has power to fulfil not only the precepts but the counsels
of the Gospel (ante, p. 103). He can do works of supereroga
tion, of which the chief would be the faithful fulfilment of the
monastic life. He can not merely fit himself for heaven ; he
can add his mite to the treasury of the superabundant merits
of Christ and the saints. Yet all this is made possible only
by the grace of God. Aquinas thus finds full room for the
AQUIXAS'S THEOLOGY 273
two dominating conceptions of mediaeval piety — grace and
merit.
Grace does not come to men indiscriminately. It has its
definite channels and these are the sacraments, and the sacra
ments alone. Here Scholasticism attained far greater clearness
of definition than had previously existed. The ancient feeling
that all sacred actions were sacraments was still alive in the
twelfth century, but Hugo of St. Victor and Abelard clearly
placed five in a more conspicuously sacramental category
than others, and Peter Lombard defined the sacraments as
seven. Whether this reckoning was original with him is still
an unsolved problem ; nor was it at once universally accepted.
The influence of his Sentences ultimately won the day. As
enumerated by Peter Lombard, the sacraments are baptism,
confirmation, the Lord's Supper, penance, extreme unction,
ordination, and matrimony. All were instituted by Christ,
directly or through the Apostles, and all convey grace from
Christ the head to the members of His mystical body, the
church. Without them there is no true union with Christ,
/livery sacrament consists of two elements which are defined
in Aristotelian terms of form and matter (ante, p. 4) — a material
portion (water, bread, and wine, etc.) ; and a formula conveying
its sacred use ("I baptize thee," etc.). The administrant must
have the intention of doing what Christ and the church ap
pointed, and the recipient must have, at least in the case of
those of years of discretion, a sincere desire to receive the
benefit of the sacrament. These conditions fulfilled, the sacra
ment conveys grace by the fact of its reception — that is ex
opere operate. Of this grace God is the principal cause; the
sacrament itself is the instrumental cause. It is the means by
which the virtue of Christ's passion is conveyed to His members.
By baptism the recipient is regenerated, and original and
previous personal sins are pardoned, though the tendency to
sin is not obliterated. Man is now given the grace, if he will
use it, to resist sin, and the lost power to attain the Christian
virtues. Infant baptism had become the universal practice,
but in the time of Aquinas immersion was still the more preva
lent form, and had his approval.
The sole recognized theory regarding Christ's presence in
the Supper was that which had been taught by Paschasius
Radbertus (ante, p. 211) and Lanfranc (ante, p. 262), and had
274 AQUINAS'S THEOLOGY
been known since the first half of the twelfth century as transub-
stantiation. It had been given full dogmatic authority by the
Fourth Lateran Council in 1215. Aquinas but added clear
ness of definition. At the words of consecration by the priest
the miracle is wrought by the power of God, so that while the
"accidents" (shape, taste, and the like) remain unaltered, the
"substance" is transformed into the very body and blood of
Christ.
(Aquinas also accepted and developed the view that the whole
body and blood of Christ is present in either element. It was
far from original with him, but had grown with the increasing
custom of the laity to partake of the bread only. A withdrawal
of the cup instigated by the clergy did not take place. The
abandonment of the cup was rather a layman's practice due to
fear of dishonoring the sacrament by misuse of the wine. Such
anxiety had manifested itself as early as the seventh century
in the adoption of the Greek custom of dipping the bread in
the wine — a practice repeatedly disapproved by ecclesiastical
authority, but supported by lay sentiment. By the twelfth
century the laity were avoiding the use of the wine altogether,
apparently first of all in England. By the time of Aquinas
lay communion in the bread alone had become prevalent.
Similar considerations led to the general abandonment by the
Western Church, in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries of the
practice of infant communion, which had been universal, and
which continues in the Greek Church to the present.
Mediaeval piety and worship reach their highest point in the
Lord's Supper. It is the continuation of the incarnation, the
repetition of the passion, the source of spiritual upbuilding to
the recipient, the evidence of his union with Christ, and a sac
rifice well pleasing to God, inclining Him to be gracious to those
in need on earth and in purgatory.
Penance, though not reckoned a sacrament of equal dignity
with baptism or the Lord's Supper, was really of great, if not
prime, importance in mediaeval practice. Mediaeval thought
regarding the personal religious life centred about the two
conceptions of grace and merit. Baptism effected the forgive
ness of previous sins ; but for those after baptism penance was
necessary. The Latin mind has always been inclined to view
sin and righteousness in terms of definite acts rather than as
states, and therefore to look upon man's relations to God under
AQUINAS'S THEOLOGY 275
the aspects of debt and credit — though holding that the only
basis of credit is the effect of God's grace. These tendencies
were never more marked than in the scholastic period. They
represented wide-spread popular views which the schoolmen
explained theologically, rather than originated.
J According to Aquinas, penance involves four elements, con-
Itrit ion, "confession, satisfaction, and absolution. Contrition is
sincere sorrow for the offense against God and a determination
not to repeat it. Yet Aquinas holds that, as all sacraments
convey grace, a penance begun in "attrition," that is, in fear
of punishment, may by infused grace become a real contrition.
Private confession to the priest had made gradual progress
since its advocacy by the old British missionaries (ante, p. 197).
Abelard and Peter Lombard were of opinion that a true con
trition was followed by divine forgiveness, even without priestly
confession, though they thought such confession desirable.
The Fourth Lateran Council, in 1215, required confession to
the priest at least once a year of all laymen of age of discretion.
Such confession thereby became church law. Alexander of
Hales argued its necessity, and Aquinas gave it more logical
exposition. It must be made to the priest as the physician of
the soul, and include all "deadly" sins — the catalogue of which
was now much larger than in the early church (ante, p. 100).
Though God forgives the eternal punishment of the penitent,
certain temporal penalties remain as a consequence of sin.
This distinction was clearly made by Abelard and became the
current property of the schoolmen. These temporal penalties
satisfy the sinner's offense against God so far as it is in his
power to do so. They also enable him to avoid sin in the future.
They are the "fruits of repentance." It is the business of the
priest to impose these satisfactions, which, if not adequate in
this life, will be completed in purgatory.
On evidence thus of sorrow for sin, confession, and a willing
ness to give satisfaction, the priest, as God's minister or agent,
pronounces absolution. Here, then, was the great control of
the priesthood over the laity till the Reformation, and in the
Roman Church to the present. Without priestly pardon no
one guilty after baptism of a "deadly" sin has assurance of
salvation.
A great modification of these satisfactions was, however,
rapidly growing in the century and a half before Aquinas. A
276 AQUINAS'S THEOLOGY
remission of a portion or of all of these "temporal" penalties
could be obtained. Such remission was called an " indulgence."
Bishops had long exercised the right to abridge satisfactions in
cases where circumstances indicated unusual contrition. Great
services to the church were held to deserve such consideration.
Peter Damiani (1007 ?-1072) regarded gifts of land for a mon
astery or a church as affording such occasions. These did not
constitute the full indulgence system, however. That seems
to have originated in southern France, and the earliest, though
not undisputed, instance is about the year 1016. Their first
conspicuous employment was by a French Pope, Urban II
(1088-1099), who promised full indulgence to all who engaged
in the First Crusade, though Pope Alexander II had given
similar privileges on a smaller scale for battle against the Sara
cens in Spain about 1063. Once begun, the system spread
with great rapidity. Not only Popes but bishops gave indul
gences, and on constantly easier terms. Pilgrimages to sacred
places or at special times, contributions to a good work, such as
building a church or even a bridge or a road, were deemed de
serving of such reward. The financial possibilities of the sys
tem were soon perceived and exploited. Since "temporal"
penalties included those of purgatory, the value of an indulgence
was enormous, though undefined, and the tendency to substi
tute it for a real penance was one to which human nature readily
responded.
Such was the practice to which Aquinas now gave the classic
interpretation. Following Alexander of Hales, he taught that
the superabundant merits of Christ and of the saints form a
treasury of good works from which a portion may be transferred
by the authority of the church, acting through its officers, to
the needy sinner. It can, indeed, avail only for those who are
really contrite, but for such it removes, in whole or in part,
the "temporal" penalties here and in purgatory. Indulgences
were never a license to commit sin. They were an amelioration
of penalties justly due to sins already committed and regretted.
But, however interpreted, there can be no doubt as to the
moral harmfulness of the system, or that it grew worse till the
Reformation, of which it was an immediately inducing cause.
At their deaths, according to Aquinas, the wicked pass im
mediately to hell, which is endless, and from which there is no
release. Those who have made full use of the grace offered in
DUNS SCOTUS 277
the church go at once to heaven. The mass of Christians
who have but imperfectly availed themselves of the means of
grace must undergo a longer or shorter purification in purga
tory. 1
The church is one, whether in heaven, on earth, or in pur
gatory. ; When one member suffers, all suffer ; when one does
well, all share in his good work. On this unity of the church
Aquinas bases prayers to the saints and for those in purgatory.
The visible church requires a visible head. To be subject to
the Roman Pontiff is necessary for salvation. To the Pope,
also, belongs the right to issue new definitions of faith, and
Aquinas implies the doctrine of papal infallibility.
It was Aquinas's good fortune that his philosophy and his
theology alike found a hearty disciple in the greatest of medi
eval poets, Dante Alighieri (1265-1321), whose Divina Corn-
media moves, in these respects, almost wholly in Aquinas's
realm of thought.
Aojiinas was_j^nmiriiVa.n, and their natural rivalry soon
drew upon his system the criticism of Franciscan scholars,
many of whom were of English birth. Such a critic was
Richard of Middletown (?-1300?); but the most famons-of
all, angLon£-nf ^ grpn.fpst nf the-schoolmen, w^as-lohn-Huas
In spite of his name he appears to have
been an Eriglishjnan. Educatedjn Oxford, where he became
its most famous teacher, hfi remn'vftd_±Q _Par4S~in-1304. Four
years lajer the general of the order sentjiim to Cologne, where
he died justas his work there had be^un. The keejiest-critic
arid the ablest diale^jciajXjoLjtlLthe schoolmen, he -attacked
the worYof Aquinas^vvith the utmost acumen. He attained a
position a~s i authoritative teacher in the Franciscan order simf
ilar to that of Aquinas in the Dominican, and the theological
rivalries jof the-Thomists and-Scotists^ontinucd to rage-till^the
Reformation.
Aquinas had, held that the essence of God is being. Xo
is arbitrar will. The will in God and man is free.
did what He saw .to be right. -To
Scotus_what_God wills_is^ right by the mere fact of willing.
ThoughTTTke AquinaTTScotus was a modified realist, .he laid
CTiphasis onthe individual rather than on the uniyjersal. To
Kim theTncTTvi^ual is the more perfect form.
Since God is absolute will, the sacrifice of Christ has the value
278 DUNS SCOTUS
which God puts upon it. Any other act would have been suffi
cient for salvation had God seen fit so to regard it. Nor can
we say, with Aquinas, that Christ's death was the wisest way
of salvation. That would be to limit God's will. All we can
affirm is that it was the way chosen by God. Similarly, Scotus
minimized the repentance necessary for salvation. Aquinas
has demanded contrition or an "attrition" — fear of punish
ment — that by the infusion of grace became contrition. Scotus
held that "attrition" is sufficient by divine appointment to
secure fitness for pardon. It is followed by forgiveness, and
that by the infusion of grace by which a man is enabled to'do
certain acts to which God has been pleased to attach merit.
The sacraments do not of themselves convey grace, but are the
conditions appointed by God upon which, if fulfilled, grace is
bestowed.
The most fundamental difference between Aquinas and Scotus
is one of attitude.' To Aquinas there could be no real disagree
ment between theology and philosophy, however inadequate
the latter to reach all the truths of the former. To Duns
much in theology is philosophically improbable, yet must be
accepted on the authority of the church. The breakdown of
Scholasticism had begun, for its purpose had been to show the
reasonableness of Christian truth.
The dispute which roused the loudest controversy between
Thomists and Scotists was regarding the "immaculate con
ception" of the Virgin Mary. Aquinas had taught that she
shared in the original sin of the race. Scotus held that she was
free from it — a doctrine that was to be declared that of the
church by Pope Pius IX (1846-1878) in 1854.
Yet more radicaHn his divorce of philosophy from theojngy
was Scotus's pupil^Wiliiam orOccam (7=1349?). AnJEnglish
mnst parr^st lype, he
taughtjin Paris, defendejd_±he-complete-^>¥er-ty o£-Ghrist and
the Apostles~agajnsjt Pope John XXII (ante, p. 261), Buffered
ijy to escape_Jn 1328 and Jind refuge with
miy o
Louis of Bavaria^ jhgn In gnarrpl wifTT thp Pgpp. Por the rest
qfjhis life he defended the indepejgidejijre-^£4he-st^^
siastical authority witff the utmost steadfastness.
~ ~~~ " Only in-
dividual objects exist. Any association in genera or species
is purely mental, having no objective reality. It is simply a
WILLIAM OF OCCAM 279
use of symbolic "terms." Hence, Occam was called a "termi-
nist" His system was a far more vigorous and destructive
nominalism than that of Roscelin (ante, p. 263). Yet actual
knowledge of things in themselves men do not have, only of
mental concepts. This denial led him to the conclusion that
no theological doctrines are philosophically provable. They
are to be accepted — and he accepted them — simply on author
ity. That authority he made in practice that of the church;
though in his contest with what he deemed a derelict papacy
he taught that Scripture, and not the decisions of councils and
Popes, is alone binding on the Christian. No wonder that
Luther, in this respect, could call him "dear master."
Occam's philosophical vjgwB"gaTTred4arrpflsing SWay aft^E-his
death. From thence onward till just before the Reformation
nominalism was^e_d6minant theological pnsitinn. It was the
bankruptcy of Scholasticism. While it undoubtedly aided in
vestigation by permitting the freest (philosophical) criticism of
existing dogma, itjbased all Christian belief on arbitrary au
thority. That was really TcTundermine theology, for men do
not long hold as true what is intellectually indefensible. It
robbed of interest the great speculative systems of the older
Scholasticism. Men turned increasingly, in the fourteenth
and fifteenth-centuries, to mysticjsgL -QE- relurneiLto Augustine
for the intellectual and religious comfort which Scholasticism
was unable longer to afford.
SECTION VIII. THE MYSTICS
Besides the intellectual, the mystical tendency was strongly
represented in many of the schoolmen. Hugo of St. Victor
and Bonaventura may as rightly be reckoned to the mystics
as to the scholastics. Aquinas showed marked mystic leanings,
derived from Augustine and the Pseudo-Dionysius. Aristotle
never wholly conquered Neo-Platonic influences. Neo-Plato-
nism itself enjoyed a measure of revival in the twelfth and thir
teenth centuries, partly through the strongly Neo-Platonizing
Arabian commentaries on Aristotle, but even more through
the widely read Liber de Causis, falsely ascribed to Aristotle, but
containing excerpts from the Neo-Platonic philosopher, Pro-
clus (410-485), and ultimately by translations directly from
Proclus's accredited works.
280 ECKHART AND TAULER
Air ..important ret>F4^euLtatLve of tin's mystical spirit
" Mebter-'-LKckhart ^3^1327)^ a, German Dominican, who
studied in Paris, served as provincial prior of the Saxon dis
trict, lived for a time,. in Strassburg. and tn light in Cologne
At th^QS£_oLhis4i£eJ£<^ for heresy. He
himself declared his readiness to submit his opinions to the
judgment of the church, but two years after his death a number
of his teachings wrere condemned by Pope John XXII. In
true Neo-Platonic fashion Eckhart taught that that which is
real in all things is the divine. In the soul of man is a spark
of God. That is the true reality in all men. All individual
izing qualities are essentially negative. Man should, therefore,
lay them aside. His struggle is to have God born in his soulj
that is to enter into full communion with and to come under
the control of the indwelling God. In this effort Christ is the
pattern and example, in whom Godhead dwelt in humanity in
all fulness. With God dominant the soul is filled with love
and righteousness. Churchly observances may be of some
value, but the springs of the mystic life are far deeper and its
union with God more direct. Good works do not make right
eous. It is the soul already righteous that does good works.
The all-important matter is that the soul enters into its full
privilege of union with God.
Perhaps the most eminent of Eckhart's disciples was John
Tauler (?-1361), a Dominican preacher who worked long in
Strassburg, of which he was probably a native, in Cologne and
in Basel. The times in Germany were peculiarly difficult.
The long contest for the empire between Frederick of Austria
and Louis of Bavaria, and papal interferences therein, wrought
religious as well as political confusion. The bubonic plague of
1348-1349, known in England as the "black death/' devas
tated the population. To his distressed age Tauler was a
preacher of helpfulness, whose sermons have been widely read
ever since. In them are many "evangelical" thoughts, which
aroused the admiration of Luther, and have often led to the
claim that he was a Protestant before Protestantism. He
emphasized the inward and the vital in religion, and condemned
dependence on external ceremonies and dead works. His real
position was that of a follower of Eckhart, with similar mystic
emphasis on union with the divine, on "God being born within,"
though he avoided the extreme statements which had led to
OTHER MYSTICS 281
churchly condemnation of Eckhart's opinions. A less practical
but widely influential representative of the same tendencies
was the ascetic Dominican, Henry Suso (?-1366), whose writ
ings did much'to further this mystic point of view.
Through these influences a whole group of mystic sympa
thizers was raised up in southwestern Germany and Switzerland,
who called themselves "Friends of God." These included
not only many of the clergy, but nuns and a considerable
number of laity. Among the laymen, Rulman Merswin,
of Strassburg (1307-1382), was the most influential. Origi
nally a banker and merchant, he was intimate with Tauler,
whose views he shared, and devoted all the latter part of his
life to religious labors. He mystified his contemporaries and
posterity by letters and books which he set forth purporting
to come from a "great Friend of God" in the Highlands (i. e.,
Switzerland), whose existence was long believed real, but now
is practically proved to have been a fiction of Merswin himself.
The most important work of these Friends of God was the
"German Theology," written late in the fourteenth century
by an otherwise unknown and unnamed priest of the Deutsch-
Herrn Haus of Frankfort, which was to influence Luther, and
to be printed by him in 1516 and 1518.
These German mystics all leaned strongly toward pantheism.
They all, however, represented a view of the Christian life
which saw its essence in a transforming personal union of the
soul with God, and they all laid little weight on the more ex
ternal methods of ordinary churchly life.
This mystical movement was furthered in the Netherlands
by John of Ruysbroeck (1294-1381), who was influenced by
Eckhart's writings and enjoyed the personal friendship of Tauler
and other of the Friends of God. Ruysbroeck's friend, in
turn, was Gerhard Groot (1340-1384)— a brilliant scholar,
who upon his conversion, about 1374, became the most influ
ential popular preacher of the Netherlands. A more conserva
tive churchly thinker than Ruysbroeck, Groot was much less
radical in his mysticism. A man of great practical gifts,
Groot's work led shortly after his death to the foundation
by his disciple, Florentius Radewyn (1350-1400), of the Breth
ren of the Common Life. This association, of which the first
house Was established in Deventer, grew out of the union of
Groot's converts for a warmer religious life. They grouped
282 BRETHREN OF THE COMMON LIFE
themselves in houses of brethren and of sisters, who lived es
sentially a monastic life under common rules, but without per
manent vows, engaged in religious exercises, copying books of
edification, and especially in teaching. Work was required of
all. These houses were wide-spread in the Netherlands and in
Germany, and did much to promote popular piety in the fif
teenth century.
The Brethren of the Common Life were non-monastic in
the matter of vows. Groot's preaching led to an influential
movement for those who preferred the monastic life, though it,
also, did not take full form till shortly after his death. This
was the foundation of the famous monastery of Windesheim,
which soon gathered a number of affiliated convents about it,
and became a reformatory influence of power in the monastic
life of the Netherlands and Germany. In both these move
ments the mystic influence was strongly present, though in a
much more ehurchly form than among the immediate disciples
of Eckhart.
The noblest product of this simple, mystical, ehurchly piety
is the Imitation of Christ — a book the circulation of which has
exceeded that of any other product of the Middle Ages.
Though its authorship has been the theme of heated contro
versy, it was unquestionably the work of Thomas a Kempis
(1380?-1471). A pupil of the Brethren of the Common Life
in Deventer, most of his long life was spent in the monastery
of Mount St. Agnes, near Zwolle. This foundation was a
member of the Windesheim congregation, of which Thomas's
older brother, John, was one of the founders. Thomas's life
was outwardly the most uneventful conceivable ; but few have
understood, as did he, the language of simple, mystical devo
tion to Christ.
The mystical movement had its reverse side in a pantheism
which broke with all ehurchly and even all moral teaching.
Such was that of Amalrich of Bena (?-1204), a teacher in
Paris, who was led by the writings of John Scotus Erigena
(ante, p. 210) and the extreme Neo-Platonic opinions of the
Spanish Mohammedan expositor of Aristotle, Averroes (1126-
1198), to the conclusions that God is all, that He is incarnate
in the believer as in Christ, and that the believer cannot sin.
He also held that as the Jewish law and ritual had been abol
ished by the coming of Christ, so that of earlier Christianity
MYSTICAL EXTRAVAGANCES 283
was now done away with by the coming of the Holy Spirit.
Amalrich was compelled to recant by Pope Innocent III, but he
left a number of followers.
Similar extravagances kept cropping out in the regions of
Germany and the Netherlands, where the mysticism already
described had its chief following. In many ways it was simply
that mysticism carried to a pantheistic extreme. It was usu
ally quietist, believing that the soul could become one with
God by contemplation, and in consequence of that union its
acts could no longer be sinful, since it is controlled by God.
All sacraments and penances, even prayer, become superfluous.
These views were not united into a compact system, nor did
their holders constitute a sect, though they have often been so
regarded and named the "Brethren and Sisters of the Free
Spirit.'1 Undoubtedly, however, such notions were rather fre
quently to be found in monasteries and nunneries, where mys
ticism was practised extravagantly, and among the Beguines,
whom they brought into doubtful repute. They were not only
repressed by the inquisition, but were opposed by the greater
mystic leaders of whom an account has been given.
SECTION IX. MISSIONS AND DEFEATS
The period between the Crusades and the Reformation was
one of gains and losses for Christendom. In Spain the Chris
tian forces struggled with increasing success against the Mo
hammedans. Gradually, four Christian states dominated the
peninsula. Castile conquered Toledo in 1085, defeated the
Moslems at Las Navas de Tolosa in 1212, and united with
Leon into a strong state in 1230. Little Navarre stretched on
both sides of the Pyrenees. Meanwhile Aragon on the east
and Portugal on the west were winning their independence,
so that by 1250 Mohammedan power on the peninsula was
confined to the kingdom of Granada, whence it was to be driven
in 1492. The Spanish Christian kingdoms were weak. The
real power of Spain was not to be manifest till the joint reign
of Ferdinand and Isabella united Castile and Aragon in 1479.
In the East the great Mongol empire, which began with the
conquest of northern China in 1213, stretched across northern
Asia, conquering most of what is now European Russia between
1238 and 1241, and reaching the borders of Palestine in 1258.
284 MISSIONS TO CHINA AND TO MOSLEMS
By this devastation the flourishing Nestorian Church in cen
tral Asia (ante, p. 149) was almost annihilated. Yet after the
first rush of conquest was over, central Asia under Mongol
control was accessible as it had never been before and was not
to be till the nineteenth century. About 1260 two Venetian
merchants, Nicolo and Maffeo Polo, made the long journey by
land to Peking, where they were well received by the Mongol
Khan, Kublai. Returning in 1269, they started again in 1271,
taking Nicolo's more famous son, Marco, who entered the
Khan's service. It was not till 1295 that the Polos were back
in Venice. Even before their return an Italian Franciscan,
John of Monte Corvino, had started in 1291 for Peking, where
he established a church about 1300. Christianity flourished
for a time. Pope Clement V (1305-1314) appointed John an
archbishop with six bishops under him. The work came to an
end, however, when the Mongols and other foreigners were ex
pelled from China by the victorious native Ming dynasty in
1368.
Efforts were made to reach the Mohammedans, but with lit
tle success. Francis of Assisi himself preached to the Sultan in
Egypt in 1219 (ante, p. 258). More famous as a missionary
was Raimon Lull (1235?-1315), a native of the island of Ma
jorca. From a wholly worldly life he was converted in 1266,
and now studied Arabic, as a missionary preparation, writing
also his Ars Major, which he intended as an irrefutable demon
stration of Christianity. In 1291 he began missionary work
in Tunis, only to be expelled at the end of a year. He labored
to induce the Pope to establish schools for missionary training.
He went once more to Africa and was again driven out. His
eloquence persuaded the Council of Vienne in 1311 to order
teaching in Greek, Hebrew, Chaldee, and Arabic, in Avignon,
Paris, Salamanca, Bologna, and Oxford, though this remained
a pious wish. Back to Tunis he went as a missionary in 1314,
and met a martyr's death by stoning the next year. He had
little to show of missionary achievement, but much of mission
ary inspiration.
The prevailing characteristic of this period was the loss of
once Christian territories. The last of the conquests of the
Crusaders in Palestine passed out of their hands in 1291. A
new Mohammedan force was arising in the Ottoman Turks.
Sprung from central Asia, they attained an independent posi-
SPREAD OF THE TURKS 285
tion in Asia Minor in 1300. In 1354 they invaded the Euro
pean portion of the Eastern empire, capturing Adrianople in
1361, and gradually spreading their rule over the Balkan lands.
But a fragmeiit of the empire remained till 1453, when Con
stantinople fell and the Eastern empire was at an end. The
victorious career of the Turks was to carry them, in the Ref
ormation age, nearly half across Europe. Christians ruled by
them were deprived of political rights, though Christian wor
ship and organization continued, under conditions of much
oppression. The Greek Church, which had stood higher in cul
ture than the Latin, certainly till the thirteenth century, was
now largely robbed of significance. Its daughter in Russia was
not conquered, however, and was growing rapidly in strength
and importance. With it lay the future of the Eastern Church.
SECTION X. THE PAPACY AT ITS HEIGHT AND ITS DECLINE
The contest between papacy and empire was by no means
ended by the Concordat of Worms (ante, p. 234). The religious
interest in the struggle was thereafter far less. Hildebrand's
quarrel had involved a great question of church purification.
The later disputes were plain contests for supremacy.
Frederick "Barbarossa" (1152-1190), of the house of Hohen-
staufen, was one of the ablest of the Holy Roman Emperors.
His model was Charlemagne, and he aspired to a similar con
trol of churchly affairs. A vigorous ruler at home, no sovereign
had been more thoroughly master of Germany than he. In
spite of the Concordat of Worms he practically controlled the
appointment of German bishops. On the other hand, his
claims met with energetic resistance from the cities of northern
Italy, which were growing strong on the commerce induced by
the Crusades. This hostility he at first successfully overcame.
With Alexander III (1159-1 181) Frederick's most able enemy
mounted the papal throne. The cardinals were divided in the
choice, and an imperialistic minority elected a rival Pope, who
called himself Victor IV, and whom Frederick and the German
bishops promptly supported. Alexander's position was long
difficult. In 1176, however, Frederick was defeated at Legnano
by the Lombard league of Italian cities, and was forced to
recognize Alexander. Frederick's attempt to control the papacy
had been shattered, but his authority over the German bishops
286 HENRY II AND THOMAS BECKET
was scarcely diminished.1 Frederick won a further success over
the papacy, in 1186, by the marriage of his son Henry with
the heiress of Sicily and southern Italy, thus threatening the
papal states from north and south.
Alexander III also won at least an apparent success over
Henry II (1 154-1 189), one of the ablest of English Kings. That
monarch, in order to strengthen his hold over the English
church, secured the election of his apparently complaisant chan
cellor, Thomas Becket, as archbishop of Canterbury, in 1162.
Once in office, Becket showed himself a determined upholder
of ecclesiastical claims. Henry now, in 1164, secured the en
actment of the Constitutions of Clarendon2, limiting the right
of appeal to Rome in ecclesiastical cases, restricting the power
of excommunication, subjecting the clergy to civil courts, and
putting the election of bishops under the control of the King,
to whom they must do homage. Becket now openly broke
with the King. In 1170 a truce was brought about, but it was
of short duration, and a hasty expression of anger on the part
of Henry led to Becket 's murder just at the close of the year.
Alexander used the deed skilfully. In 1172 Becket was can
onized, and continued till the Reformation one of the most
popular of English saints. Henry was forced to abandon the
Constitutions of Clarendon, and do penance at Becket's grave.
Yet in spite of this apparent papal victory, Henry continued
his control of English ecclesiastical affairs much as before.
Frederick "Barbarossa" died in 1190, on the Third Crusade.
He was succeeded by his son, Henry VI (1190-1197), who, in
1194, obtained full possession of his wife's inheritance in Sicily
and southern Italy, and developed ambitious plans of greatly
extending his imperial sway. The papacy, with both ends of
Italy in the possession of the German sovereign, was in great
political danger; but the situation was relieved by the early
death of Henry VI in 1197, and the accession to the papacy in
1198 of one of its ablest mediaeval representatives, Innocent III
(1198-1216).
•Innocent III was unquestionably a man of personal humility
and piety, but no Pope ever had higher conceptions of the papal
1See "Peace of Venice," Henderson, Select Historical Documents, pp.
425-430.
2 Gee and Hardy, Documents Illustrative of English Church History, pp.
68-73.
INNOCENT III 287
office and under him the papacy reached its highest actual
power. The death of Henry VI saw Germany divided. One
party supported the claims of Henry's brother, Philip of Swabia,
the other those of Otto of Brunswick, of the rival house of
Welf (Guelph). Out of this confused situation Innocent strove
with gre.at skill to bring advantage to the papacy. He secured
large concessions in Italy and Germany from Otto, yet when
Philip gradually gained the upper hand, Innocent secured an
agreement that the rival claims should be submitted to the
judgment of a court controlled by the Pope. The murder of
Philip in 1208 frustrated this plan, and put Otto IV once more
to the fore. Innocent now obtained from Otto the desired
guarantee of the extent of the papal states, and a promise to
abandon control of German episcopal elections, and on the
strength of these concessions crowned Otto Emperor in 1209.
Otto promptly forgot all his promises. The angered Pope now
put forward Frederick II (1212-1250), the young son of the late
Emperor, Henry VI, who was chosen to the German throne
by the elements opposed to Otto, in 1212, and renewed all
Otto's broken promises. In 1214 Otto was wholly defeated by
the French King, Philip II (1179-1223) on the field of Bouvines,
and Frederick was assured of the empire. Thus, Innocent III
seemed wholly to have defended papal claims and to have
dictated the imperial succession. The world supremacy of the
papacy appeared realized.
Nor was Innocent III less successful in humbling the sov
ereigns of other lands. He compelled the powerful Philip II
of France, by the prohibition of religious services — an interdict
— to take back the Queen, Ingeborg, whom Philip had unjustly
divorced. He separated King Alfonso IX of Leon from a wife
too closely related. King Peter of Aragon received his king
dom as a fief from the Pope. Innocent's greatest apparent vic
tory was, however, in the case of England. The cruel and
unpopular King John (1199-1216), in a divided election tried
to secure his candidate as archbishop of Canterbury. The dis
pute was appealed to Rome. The King's choice was set aside
and Innocent's friend, Stephen Langton, received the prize.
John resisted. Innocent laid England under an interdict. The
King drove out his clerical opponents. The Pope aow excom
municated him, declared his throne forfeited and proclaimed a
crusade against him. The defeated King not merely made a
288 THE PAPACY AT ITS HEIGHT OF TOWER
humiliating submission to the Pope, in 1213, but acknowledged
his kingdom a fief of the papacy, agreeing to pay a feudal tax
to the Pope of a thousand marks annually.1 Yet when the
barons and clergy wrung Magna Charta from John in 1215,
Innocent denounced it as an injury to his vassal.
In the internal affairs of the church Innocent's policy was
strongly centralizing. He claimed for the papacy the right of
decision in all disputed episcopal elections. He asserted sole
authority to sanction the transfer of bishops from one see to
another. His crusade against the Cathari has already been
noted (ante, p. 253). The great Fourth Lateran Council of
1215, at which transubstantiation was declared an article of
faith, and annual confession and communion required, was also
a papal triumph. The conquest of Constantinople by the
Fourth Crusade (ante, p. 243), though not approved by Inno
cent, seemed to promise the subjection of the Greek Church to
papal authority.
In Innocent III the papacy reached the summit of its worldly
power. The succeeding Popes continued the same struggle,
but with decreasing success. The Emperor Frederick II, ruler
of Germany, as well as of northern and southern Italy and
Sicily, a man of much political ability and of anything but
mediaeval piety, though put in office largely by Innocent III,
soon proved the chief opponent of the world pretensions of the
papacy. Under Gregory IX (1227-1241), the organizer of the
inquisition and the patron of the Franciscans (ante, pp. 254, 258),
and Innocent IV (1243-1254) the papal contest was carried on
against Frederick II, with the utmost bitterness and with very
worldly weapons. Frederick was excommunicated, and rivals
were raised up against him in Germany by papal influence.
The papacy seemed convinced that only the destruction of the
Hohenstaufen line, to which Frederick belonged, would assure
its victory. On Frederick's death in 1250 it pursued his son,
Conrad IV (1250-1254), with the same hostility, and gave his
heritage in southern Italy and Sicily to Edmund of England,
son of King Henry III. A new influence, that of France, was
making itself felt in papal counsels. Urban IV (1261-1264) was
a Frenchman and appointed French cardinals. He now gave,
in 1263, southern Italy and Sicily to Charles of Anjou, brother
of King Louis IX of France (1226-1270). This was. a turning-
1 Henderson, pp. 430-432.
NEW FORCES LIMITING PAPAL POWER 289
point in papal politics, and with it the dependence of the papacy
on France really began. The next Pope was also a Frenchman,
Clement IV (1265-1268). During his papacy Conradin, the
young son of Conrad IV, asserted his hereditary claims to
southern Italy and Sicily by force of arms. He was excom
municated by Clement IV and defeated by Charles of Anjou,
by whose orders he was beheaded in Naples, in 1268. With
him ended the line of Hohenstaufen, which the Popes had so
strenuously opposed, though there is no reason to think that
the Pope was responsible in any way for Conradin's execution.
These long quarrels and the consequent confusion had
greatly enfeebled the power of the Holy Roman Empire.
Thenceforward, to the Reformation, it was far more a group of
feeble states than an effective single sovereignty. It was able
to offer little resistance to papal demands. Other forces were,
however, arising that would inevitably make impossible, such
a world sovereignty as Innocent III had exercised. One such
force was the new sense of nationality, which caused men x to
feel that, as Frenchmen or Englishmen, they had common in
terests against all foreigners, even the Pope himself. Such a
sense of unity had not existed in the earlier Middle Ages. It
was rapidly developing, especially in France and England in
the latter half of the thirteenth century. A second cause was
the rise in intelligence, wealth, and political influence of the
middle class, especially in the cities. These \vere restive under
ecclesiastical interference in temporal affairs. Closely asso
ciated with this development was the growth of a body of lay
lawyers and the renewed study of the Roman law. These
men were gradually displacing ecclesiastics as royal advisers,
and developing the effectiveness of the royal power by prece
dents from a body of law — the Roman — which knew nothing of
mediaeval ecclesiastical conditions. There was also a growing
conviction among thoughtful and religious men that such
worldly aims as the recent papacy had followed were incon
sistent with the true interests of the church. These were
growing forces with which the papacy must reckon. The weak
ness of the papacy, from a worldly point of view, was that it
had no adequate ph$*ical forces at its disposal. It must bal
ance off one competitor against another, and the wreck wrought
in Germany left the door open to France without forces which
could be matched against her.
290 BONIFACE VIII AND PHILIP THE FAIR
Papal interference in Germany continued. Pope Gregory
X (1271-1276) ordered the German electors, in 1273, to choose
a King, under threat that the Pope himself would make the
appointment if they failed. They chose Rudolf I, of Habs-
burg (1273-1291), who promptly renewed the concessions to
the papacy which had been once made by Otto IV and Fred
erick II.
Quite otherwise was it speedily with France. The power of
that monarchy had been rapidly growing, and in Philip IV,
"the Fair'' (1285-1314), France had a King of absolute un-
scrupulousness, obstinacy, and high conceptions of royal au
thority. In Boniface VIII (1294-1303) the papacy was held
by a man of as lofty aspirations to world-rule as had ever there
been represented. Neither participant in the struggle com
mands much sympathy. War had arisen between France,
Scotland, and England which compelled the English King,
Edward I (1272-1307), to rally the support of all his subjects
by inviting the representatives of the Commons to take a place
in Parliament, in 1295, thus giving them a permanent share
in the English national councils. The struggle also induced
the Kings of France and England to tax their clergy to meet
its expenses. The clergy complained to Pope Boniface, who,
in 1296 issued the bull Clericis laicos,1 inflicting excommunica
tion on all who demanded or paid such taxes on clerical prop
erty without papal permission. Philip replied by prohibiting
the export of money from France, thus striking at the revenues
of the Pope and of the Italian bankers. The latter moved
Boniface to modify his attitude so that the clergy could make
voluntary contributions, and even allowed that, in great neces
sities, the King could lay a tax. It was a royal victory.
Comparative peace prevailed between Philip and Boniface
for a few years. In 1301 the struggle again began. Philip
had Bernard Saisset, bishop of Pamiers, whom the Pope had
recently sent to him as nuntius, arrested and charged with
high treason. The Pope ordered Bernard's release and cited
the French bishops, and ultimately King Philip himself, to
Rome. In reply, Philip summoned the first French States-
General, in which clergy, nobles, and commoners were rep
resented. This body, in 1302, sustained the King in his atti
tude of resistance. The Pope answered with the famous bull,
1 Henderson, pp. 432-434 ; Robinson, 1 : 488-490.
THE PAPACY REMOVES TO AVIGNON 291
Unam sanctam,1 the high-water mark of papal claim to suprem
acy over civil powers. It affirmed that temporal powers are
subject to the spiritual authority, which is judged in the per
son of the Pope f by God alone. It declared, following the opin
ion of Aquinas (ante, p. 277), "that it is altogether necessary
to salvation for every human being to be subject to the Roman
pontiff" — an affirmation the exact scope of which has led to
much subsequent discussion. Philip answered with a new
assembly, where the Pope was charged with an absurd series
of crimes, involving heresy and moral depravity, and appeal
was issued for a general council of the church before which the
Pope might be tried. Philip was determined that this should
be no mere threat. He would force the Pope to consent.
He therefore sent his able jurist vice-chancellor, William
Nogaret, who joined to himself Boniface's ancient family
enemy, Sciarra Colonna. Together they gathered a force and
made Boniface a prisoner in Anagni, just as he was about to
proclaim Philip's excommunication, in 1303. Boniface was
courageous. He would make no concessions. His friends
soon freed him, but a month later he died.
These events were a staggering blow to the temporal claims
of the papacy. It was not primarily that Philip's representa
tives had held Boniface for a short time a prisoner. A new
force had arisen, that of national sentiment, to which the King
had appealed successfully, and against which the spiritual
weapons of the papacy had been of little avail. The papal
hope of world-rulership in temporal affairs had proved impos
sible of permanent realization.
Worse for the papacy was speedily to follow. After the
death of Boniface's successor, the excellent Benedict XI (1303-
1304), the cardinals chose a Frenchman, Bertrand de Gouth,
who took the title of Clement V (1305-1314). A man of weak
ness of character and grave moral faults, he was fully under
the influence of King Philip IV, of France. He declared Philip
innocent of the attack on Boniface VIII, and cancelled Boni
face's interdicts and excommunications, modifying the bull
Unam sanctam to please the King. An evidence of French
domination that was patent to all the world was the removal
of the seat of the papacy, in 1309, to Avignon — on the river
Rhone — a town not belonging indeed to the French kingdom,
1 Henderson, pp. 435-437 ; Robinson, 1 : 346-348.
292 CANON LAW
but in popular estimate amounting to the establishment of the
papacy in France. Undoubtedly the troubled state of Italian
politics had something to do with this removal. At Avignon
the papacy was to have its seat till 1377 — a period so nearly
equal to the traditional exile of the Jews as to earn the name
of the Babylonish Captivity. Nor was the cup of Clement's
humiliation yet filled. The cold-blooded King compelled him
to join in the cruel destruction of the Templars (ante, p. 242).
Clement V's pontificate is interesting as marking the con
clusion, to the present, of the official collections of church or
"canon" law. That great body of authority was the product
of the history of the church since the early councils, and em
braced their decisions, the decrees of synods and of Popes.
The Middle Ages had seen many collections, of which the most
famous was that gathered, probably in 1148, by Gratian, a
teacher of canon law in Bologna. Pope Gregory IX (1227-
1241) caused an official collection to be formed, in 1234, includ
ing new decrees up to his time. Pope Boniface VIII (1294-
1303), published a similar addition in 1298, and Clement V
(1305-1314) enlarged it in 1314, though his work was not pub
lished till 1317, under his successor, John XXII (1316-1334).
The great structure, thus laboriously erected through the cen
turies, is a mass of ecclesiastical jurisprudence embracing all
domains of ecclesiastical life. Though official collections ceased
from Clement V to the twentieth century, the creation of
church law has continued in all ages, and the recent Pope,
Pius X (1903-1914), in 1904 ordered the codification and sim
plification of the whole body of canon law by a special commis
sion.
SECTION XI. THE PAPACY IN AVIGNON, CRITICISM.
THE SCHISM
The Popes, while the papacy was in Avignon, were all
Frenchmen. It seemed as if the papacy had become a French
institution. This association caused greatly increased rest
lessness in view of papal claims, especially in nations which,
like England, were at war with France during much of this
period, or Germany on which the still continuing interference
of the papacy bore hard. The ablest of the Avignon Popes
was unquestionably John XXII (1316-1334). The double
CRITICS OF THE PAPAL CLAIMS 293
imperial election in Germany, in 1314, had divided that land
between supporters of Louis the Bavarian (1314-1347), and
Frederick of Austria. John XXII, supported by King Philip
V of France (1316-1322), thought the occasion ripe to diminish
German influence in Italy for the benefit of the States of the
Church.; He declined to recognize either claimant, and de-
* q^red that the Pope had right to administer the empire during
vacancies. When Louis interfered in Italian affairs the Pope
excommunicated him, and a contest with the papacy ensued
which lasted till Louis's death. In its course the German elec
tors issued the famous declaration of 1338, in Rense, which was
confirmed by the Reichstag in Frankfort the same year, that
the chosen head of the empire needs no approval from the
papacy whatever for full entrance on or continuation in the
duties of his office.
These attacks upon the state aroused literary defenders of
considerable significance. One of these was the great Italian
poet, Dante Alighieri (1265-1321). His Latin treatise, On
Monarchy, is not surely dated, but was composed between 1311
and 1318. Dante holds that peace is the best condition of
mankind. It is most effectively secured by an Emperor.
The power of empire rightfully came to Rome. It is as neces
sary for man's temporal happiness as the papacy is to guide
men to eternal blessedness. Each is directly from God, and
neither should interfere in the province of the other. Dante
carefully controverts the papal interpretation of the Bible
texts and historical instances on which claims to control over
the state were based. All this is the more impressive since
Dante was no free-thinker but theologically of most impeccable
orthodoxy.
Much more radical than Dante, and vastly influential on
later political theories were several treatises produced in France.
The Dominican, John of Paris (1265?-1306), taught that both
papal and royal powers are based on the sovereignty of the
people, and neither has a right to interfere with the sphere of
the other. The most important of these works was the Defensor
Pacts of Marsilius of Padua £1-1342?) and John of Jandun
(?-1328)~ It is the most startlingly modern treatise that the
age produced. Its principal author, Marsilius, was long a
teacher in Paris, where he was rector of the university in 1313,
and was regarded as learned in medicine. The Defensor Pacis
294 MARSILIUS OF PADUA
was written in 1324, in the controversy between Pope John
XXII and the Emperor Louis the Bavarian. Its radical views
caused its authors to seek protection from the Emperor, which
they enjoyed, though with some hesitation, for the rest of their
lives. They were excommunicated by John XXII in 1327,
and Pope Clement VI declared, in 1343, that he had never
a worse heretical book.
According to Marsilius, who was deeply versed in Aristoi
the basis of all power is the people ; in the state the whole body
of citizens ; in the church the whole body of Christian believers.
They are the legislative power ; by them rulers in church and
state are appointed, and to them these executive officers are
responsible. The only final authority in the church is the
New Testament; but priests have no power of physical force
to compel men to obey it. Their sole duty is to teach, warn,
and reprove. The New Testament teaches that bishops and
priests are equivalent designations, yet it is well, as a purely
human constitution, to appoint some clergy superintendents
over others. This appointment gives no superior spiritual
power, nor has one bishop spiritual authority over another, or
the Pope over all. Peter had no higher rank than the other
Apostles. There is no New Testament evidence that he was
ever in Rome. The New Testament gives no countenance to
the possession of earthly lordships and estates by clergymen.
No bishop or Pope has authority to define Christian truth as
contained in the New Testament, or make binding laws.
These acts can be done only by the legislative body of the
church — the whole company of Christian believers, represented
in a general council. Such a council is the supreme authority
in the church. Since the Christian state and the Christian
church are coterminous, the executive of the Christian state,
as representing a body of believers, may call councils, appoint
bishops, and control church property.1 Here were ideas that
were to bear fruit in the Reformation, and even in the French
Revolution ; but they were too radical greatly to impress their
age. Their time was later, and something was lacking in Mar
silius himself. He was a cool thinker rather than a man who
could translate theory into action in such fashion as to create
large leadership.
Because of a zeal which Marsilius lacked, and of ideas not
1 See, for some extracts, Robinson, 1 : 491-497.
ENGLISH LIMITATION OF PAPAL POWERS 295
too much in advance of the age, a greater authority was wielded
by William of Occam, whose theological influence and ener
getic defense of the extremer Franciscan doctrine of the abso
lute poverty of* Christ and the Apostles has been noted (ante,
pp. 261, 278). Occam, like Marsilius, found a refuge with
is the Bavarian. To him, as to Dante, papacy and empire
both founded by God, and neitheT is superior to the other,
has its own sphere. The church has purely religious
functions. Its final authority is the New Testament.
Voices were raised in defense of papal claims. One of the
most celebrated, though typical rather than original, was that
of the Italian Augustinian monk, Augustinus Triumphus (1243-
1328). In his Summa de potestate ecclesiastica, written about
1322, he holds that all princes rule as subject to the Pope, who
can remove them at pleasure. No civil law is binding if dis
approved by him. The Pope can be judged by none ; nor can
one even appeal from the Pope to God, " since the decision and
court of God and the Pope are one." Yet should the Pope fall
into heresy, his office is forfeited.
These opinions of the papal supporters were far from being
shared by Germans engaged in a struggle against the papacy
for the political autonomy of the empire, or by Englishmen at
war with France, who believed the Avignon papacy the tool of
the French sovereign. Pope Clement V (1305-1314) had as
serted the right of the papacy to appoint to all ecclesiastical
office. Such appointees were called "provisors," and the in
trusion of papal favorites in England aroused King and Parlia
ment in 1351 to enact the Statute of Provisors. Elections to
bishoprics and other ecclesiastical posts should be free from
papal interference. In case appointment was made by the
regular authorities, and also by the Pope, the provisor was to
be imprisoned till he resigned his claim. This law inevitably
led to disputes between papal and royal authority, and a further
statute of 1353, known as that of Proemunire forbade appeals
outside of the kingdom under penalty of outlawry.1 In en
forcement these statutes were largely dead letters, but they
show the growth of a spirit in England which was further illus
trated when Parliament, in 1366, refused longer to recognize
the right of King John to subject his kingdom, in 1213, to the
Pope as a fief (ante, p. 288).
^ee and Hardy, Documents, pp. 103, 104, 113-119.
296 THE PAPAL TAXES
No feature of the Avignon papacy contributed to its criti
cism so largely as its offensive taxation of church life. The
Crusades had been accompanied by a much readier circulation
of money, and a great increase in commerce. Europe was
passing rapidly from barter to money payments. Money taxes,
rather than receipts in kind, were everywhere increasing. It
was natural that this cha"nge should take place in church ad
ministration also ; but the extent to which taxation was pushed
by the Popes of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries was a
scandal, and it was much aggravated when the removal of the
papacy to Avignon largely cut off the revenues from the papal
estates in Italy without diminishing the luxury or expensive-
ness of the papal court. This period saw the extensive devel
opment, in imitation of secular feudal practice, of the annates,
that is a tax of one year's income, more or less, from each new
appointment. Since the reservation of posts to exclusive papal
appointment was at the same time immensely extended, this
became a large source of revenue. The income of vacant bene
fices, also, became a significant source of papal receipts. Taxes
for bulls and other papal documents, also rose rapidly in amount
and productivity. These were but a portion of the papal exac
tions, and the total effect was the impression that the papal
administration was heavily and increasingly burdensome on
the clergy, and through them on the people. This feeling was
augmented by the ruthless manner in which churchly censures,
such as excommunication, were imposed on delinquent tax
payers. The papacy seemed extravagant in expenditure and
offensive in taxation, and its repute in both respects was to
grow worse till the Reformation.
The collapse of the imperial power in Italy, for which the
papacy was largely responsible, and the transfer to Avignon,
left Italy to the wildest political confusion. Nowhere was the
situation worse than in Rome. In 1347 Cola di Rienzi headed
a popular revolution against the nobles and established a
parody of the ancient republic. He was soon driven out, but
in 1354 was in power again, only to be murdered in the parti
san struggles. Innocent VI (1352-1362) sent the Spanish car
dinal Albornoz ( ?-1367) as his legate to Italy. By Albornoz's
military and diplomatic abilities the papal interests in Rome
and Italy generally were much improved, so that Urban V
(1362-1370) actually returned to the Eternal City in 1367.
THE SCHISM 297
The death of Albornoz deprived him of his chief support, and
in 1370 the papacy was once more in Avignon. Urban V was
succeeded by Gregory XI (1370-1378), whom St. Catherine of
Siena (1347-1380) urged in the name of God to return to Rome.
The distracted state of the city also counselled his presence if
papal interests were to be preserved. Accordingly he trans
ferred the papacy to Rome in 1377, and there died the next
year.
The sudden death of Gregory XI found the cardinals in
Rome. A majority were French, and would gladly have re
turned to Avignon. The Roman people were determined to
keep the papacy in Rome, and to that end to have an Italian
Pope. Under conditions of tumult the cardinals chose Barto-
lommeo Prignano the archbishop of Bari, who took the name
Urban VI (1378-1389). A tactless man, who desired to termi
nate French influence over the papacy, and effect some reforms
in the papal court, he soon had the hostility of all the cardinals.
They now got together, four months after his election, declared
their choice void since dictated by mob violence, and elected
Cardinal Robert of Geneva as Pope Clement VII (1378-1394).
A few months later Clement VII and his cardinals were settled
in Avignon. There had been many rival Popes before, but
they had been chosen by different elements. Here were two
Popes, each duly elected by the same body of cardinals. The
objection that Urban VI had been chosen out of fear had little
force, since the cardinals had recognized him without protest
for several months; but they had done all they could to undo
the choice. Europe saw two Popes, each condemning the
other. There was no power that could decide between them,
and the several countries followed the one or the other as their
political affinities dictated. The Roman Pope was acknowl
edged by northern and central Italy, the greater part of Ger
many, Scandinavia, and England. To the Pope in Avignon,
France, Spain, Scotland, Naples, Sicily, and some parts of
Germany adhered. It was a fairly equal division. The great
schism had begun. Europe was pained and scandalized, while
the papal abuses, especially of taxation, were augmented, and
two courts must now be maintained. Above all, the profound
feeling that the church must be visibly one was offended. The
papacy sank enormously in popular regard.
In Rome Urban VI was succeeded by Boniface IX (1389-
298 WYCLIF
1404), and he by Innocent VII (1404-1406), who was followed
by Gregory XII (1406-1415). In Avignon Clement VII was
followed by a Spaniard, Peter de Luna, who took the name
Benedict XIII (1394-1417).
SECTION XII. WYCLIF AND HUSS
The English opposition to the encroachments of the Avignon
papacy has already been noted (ante, p. 295). Other forces
were also working in the island. Of these that of Thomas
Bradwardine (?-1349) was one of the most potent in the in
tellectual realm. Bradwardine, who was long an eminent the
ologian in Oxford, and died archbishop of Canterbury, was a
leader in the revival of the study of Augustine, which marked
the decline of Scholasticism, and was to grow in influence till
it profoundly affected the Reformation. He taught predesti
nation in most positive form; like Augustine, he conceived re
ligion as primarily a personal relationship of God and the soul,
and emphasized grace in contrast to merit. There were now,
therefore, other intellectual traditions besides those of later
nominalistic Scholasticism in the Oxford of Wyclif's student
days.
John Wyclif (?-1384) was born in Hipswell in Yorkshire.
Few details of his early life are known. He entered Balliol
College, Oxford, of which he became ultimately for a short
time "master." In Oxford he rose to great scholarly distinc
tion, lecturing to large classes, and esteemed the ablest theo
logian of its faculty. Philosophically he was a realist, in con
trast to the prevailing nominalism of his age. He was deeply
influenced by Augustine, and through Augustine by Platonic
conceptions. Wyclif gradually became known outside of Ox
ford. In 1374 he was presented, by royal appointment, to
the rectory of Lutterworth, and the same year was one of the
King's commissioners — probably theological adviser — to at
tempt in Bruges with the representatives of Pope Gregory XI
an adjustment of the dispute regarding "provisors" (ante,
p. 295). In how far these appointments were due to the pow
erful son of King Edward III, John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancas
ter, is uncertain, though he probably regarded Wyclif as likely
to be useful in his designs on church property; but Wyclif's
opinions, if entertained in 1374, cannot then have been widely
WYCLIF 299
known. There is no evidence that the Pope yet looked on him
with distrust, and recent investigation has shown that his re
formatory work did not begin in 1366, as formerly supposed.
By 1376, however, it was the wealth of the church and cleri
cal interference, especially that of the Popes, in political life,
that afoused his opposition. He lectured that year in Oxford
On Civil Lordship. Wyclif's view of ecclesiastical office and
privilege was curiously feudal. God is the great overlord. He
gives all positions, civil and spiritual, as fiefs, to be held on
condition of faithful service. They are lordships, not prop
erty. God gives the use but not the ownership. If the user
abuses his trust he forfeits his tenure. Hence a bad ecclesiastic
loses all claim to office, and the temporal possessions of un
worthy clergy may well be taken from them by the civil rulers,
to whom God has given the lordship of temporal things, as He
has that of things spiritual to the church. This doctrine, ad
vanced in all simplicity and sincerity, was undoubtedly pleas
ing to John of Gaunt and his hungry crew of nobles who hoped
for enrichment from church spoliation. It was no less satis
factory to many commoners, who had long been critical of the
wealth, pretensions, and too often lack of character of the
clergy. It was not displeasing to the mendicant orders, who
had always, in theory at least, advocated " apostolic poverty."
Wyclif's teaching aroused the opposition of the high clergy,
the property-holding orders, and of the papacy. In 1377 he
was summoned to answer before the bishop of London, William
Courtenay. The protection of John of Gaunt and other nobles
rendered the proceeding abortive. The same year Pope
Gregory XI issued five buj^ ordering Wyclif's arrest and ex
amination.1 Yet Wyclir"enjoyed the protection of a strong
party at court and much popular favor, so that further pro
ceedings against him by the archbishop of Canterbury and the
bishop of London were frustrated in 1378.
Wyclif was now rapidly developing his reformatory activities
in a flood of treatises in Latin and English. The Scriptures, he
taught, are the only law of the church. The church itself is
not, as the common man imagined, centred in the Pope and
the cardinals. It is the whole company of the elect. Its only
certain head is Christ, since the Pope may not be one of the
elect. Wyclif did not reject the papacy. The church may
1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 105-108.
300 WYCLIF
well have an earthly leader, if such a one is like Peter, and
strives for the simple conditions of early Christianity. Such a
Pope would be presumably one of the elect. But a Pope who
grasps worldly power and is eager for taxes is presumptively
non-elect, and therefore antichrist. With his deeper knowl
edge of the Bible, Wyclif now attacked the mendicant orders,
which had supported him in his assertion of apostolic poverty,
regarding them as without Scriptural warrant and the main
pillars of the existing papacy. He was now fighting current
churchly conditions all along the line.
Wyclif now proceeded to more constructive efforts. Con
vinced that the Bible is the law of God, Wyclif determined to
give it to the people in the English tongue. Between 1382 and
1384 the Scriptures were translated from the Vulgate. What
share Wyclif had in the actual work is impossible to say. It
has been usually thought that the New Testament was from
his pen, and the Old from that of Nicholas of Hereford. At
all events, the New Testament translation was vivid, readable,
and forceful, and did a service of fundamental importance for
the English language — to say nothing of English piety. The
whole was revised about 1388, possibly by Wyclif s disciple,
John Purvey. Its circulation was large. In spite of severe
repression in the next century, at least one hundred and fifty
manuscripts survive.
To bring the Gospel to the people Wyclif began sending out
his "poor priests." In apostolic poverty, barefoot, clad in long
robes, and with staff in the hand, they wandered two by two,
as had the early Waldensian or Franciscan preachers. Unlike
the latter, they were bound by no permanent vows. Their
success was great.
But events soon lamed the Lollard movement, as the follow
ing of Wyclif was popularly called. Convinced that the elect
are a true priesthood, and that all episcopal claims are un-
scriptural, Wyclif saw in the priestly power of exclusive human
agency in the miracle of transubstantiation a main buttress of
what he deemed erroneous priestly claim. He therefore at
tacked this doctrine in 1381. His own view of Christ's pres
ence seems to have been essentially that later known as con-
substantiation. It was not his positive assertions, but his
attack, however, that aroused resentment, for to oppose tran
substantiation was to touch one of the most popularly cherished
WYCLIF. THE LOLLARDS 301
beliefs of the later Middle Ages. That attaek cost Wyclif many
followers and roused the churchly authorities to renewed action.
This tide of opposition was strengthened by events in 1381, for
which Wyclif was in no way responsible. The unrest of the
lower orders, which had been growing since the dislocation of
the labor market by the " black death " of 1348-1350, culminated
in 1381 in a great peasant revolt, which was with difficulty put
down. This bloody episode strengthened the party of con
servatism. In 1382 the archbishop of Canterbury held a
synod in London by which twenty-four Wyclifite opinions were
condemned.1 Wyclif was no longer able to lecture in Oxford.
His "poor priests" were arrested. He was too strong in popu
lar and courtly support, however, to be attacked personally,
and he died still possessed of his pastorate in Lutterworth on
the last day of 1384.
No small element in Wyclif s power was that he was thought
to have no scholastic equal in contemporary England. Men
hesitated to cross intellectual swords with him. Equally con
spicuous were his intense patriotism and his deep piety. He
voiced the popular resentment of foreign papal taxation and
greed, and the popular longing for a simpler, more Biblical
faith. It was his misfortune that he left no follower of con
spicuous ability to carry on his work in England. Yet through
out the reign of Richard II (1377-1399) the Lollard movement
continued to grow. With the accession of the usurping house
of Lancaster in the person of Henry IV (1399-1413), the King,
anxious to placate the church, was persuaded to secure the pas
sage in 1401 of the statute De hasretico comburendo,2 under which
a number of Lollards were burned. Henry IV spared Lollards
in high lay station. Not so his son, Henry V (1413-1422). Un
der him their most conspicuous leader, Sir John Oldcastle, Lord
Cobham, a man of the sternest religious principles, whom tra
dition and dramatic license transformed into the figure of
FalstafT, was condemned, driven into rebellion, and executed
in 1417. With his death the political significance of Lollard y
in England was at an end, though adherents continued in
secret till the Reformation. Wyclif 's chief influence was to be
in Bohemia rather than in the land of his birth.
Bohemia had undergone a remarkable intellectual and politi
cal development in the fourteenth century. The Holy Roman
'Gee and Hardy, pp. 108-110. -Ibid., pp. 133-135.
302 BOHEMIA. JOHN HUSS
Emperor, Charles IV (1346-1378) was also King of Bohemia,
and did much for that land. In 1344 he secured the establish
ment of Prague as an archbishopric, releasing Bohemia from ec
clesiastical dependence on Mainz. Four years later he procured
the foundation of a university in Prague. In no country of
Europe was the church more largely a landholder, or the clergy
more worldly than in Bohemia. Charles IV was not unfriendly
to moral reform. During and following his reign a series of
preachers of power stirred Bohemia, attacking the seculariza
tion of the church. Such were Conrad of Waldhausen ( ?-1369),
Milicz of Kremsier (?-1374), Matthias of Janov (?-1394), and
Thomas of Stitny (1331-1401). These all opposed clerical cor
ruption, emphasized the Scriptures as the rule of life, and
sought a more frequent participation in the Lord's Supper.
Milicz and Matthias taught that antichrist was at hand, and
was manifest in an unworthy clergy. These men had little
direct influence on Huss, but they stirred Bohemia to a readi
ness to accept his teachings.
Bohemia was torn, furthermore, by intense rivalry between
the Germanic and the Slavonic (Czech) elements of the popu
lation. The latter was marked by a strong desire for racial
supremacy and Bohemian autonomy.
Curiously, also, Bohemia, hitherto so little associated with
England, was brought into connection with that country by
the marriage of the Bohemian princess, Anna, to King Rich
ard II, in 1383. Bohemian students were attracted to Oxford,
and thence brought Wyclif s doctrines and writings into their
native land, especially to the University of Prague. The great
propagator of Bohemian Wyclifism was to be John Huss, in
whom, also, all Czech national aspirations were to have an
ardent advocate. It was this combination of religious and pa
triotic zeal that gave Huss his remarkable power of leadership.
John Huss was born, of peasant parentage, in Husinecz,
whence he derived his name by abbreviation, about the year
1373. His studies were completed in the University of Prague,
where he became Bachelor of Theology in 1394, and Master of
Arts two years lateiVr::^n-'1401 he was ordained to the priest
hood, still maintaining a teaching connection with the univer
sity, of which he was "rector" in 1402^ Meanwhile Huss had
become intimately acquainted with Wyclif's philosophical
treatises, with the "realism" of which he sympathized. Wye-
JOHN HUSS 303
lif's religious works, known by Huss certainly from 1402, won
his approbation, and henceforth Huss was, theologically, a
disciple of Wyclif. More conservative than his master, he
did not deny* transubstantiation ; but like him he held the
church to consist of the predestinate only, of whom the true head
is not the Pope, but Christ, and of which the law is the New
Testament, and its life that of Christ-like poverty. Though
the publication of Huss's commentary on the Sentences of
Peter Lombard has led to a higher estimate of his scholarly
gifts than formerly prevailed, it is certain that in his sermons
and treatises Huss usually reproduced not only the thoughts
but the language of Wyclif.
In 1402 Huss became preacher at the Bethlehem chapel, in
Prague, and soon gained immense popular following through
his fiery sermons in the Bohemian language. Though Wyc-
lifite views were condemned by the majority of the university
in 1403, Huss's preaching had, at first, the support of the
archbishop, Zbynek (1403-1411) ; but his criticisms of the
clergy gradually turned this favor into opposition, which was
increased as Huss's essential agreement with Wyclif constantly
became more evident. New causes of dissent speedily arose.
In the schism Bohemia had held to the Roman Pope, Gregory
XII (1406-1415). As a step toward the healing of the breach
King Wenzel of Bohemia now favored a policy of neutrality
between the rival Popes. Huss and the Bohemian element
in the university supported Wenzel. Archbishop Zbynek, the
German clergy, and the German portion of the university clung
to Gregory XII. Wenzel therefore, in 1409, arbitrarily changed
the constitution of the university, giving the foreign majority
one vote in its decisions and the Bohemians three, thus com
pletely reversing the previous proportion. The immediate re
sult was the secession of the foreign elements and the founda
tion, in 1409, of the University of Leipzig. This Bohemian
nationalist victory, of doubtful permanent worth or right,
Huss fully shared. Its immediate consequences were that he
became the first "rector" of the newly regulated university,
and enjoyed a high degree of courtly favor. His views were
now spreading widely in Bohemia.
Meanwhile the luckless Council of Pisa had run its course
(1409) (see p. 307). Zbynek now supported its Pope, Alexander
V (1409-1410), to whom he complained of the spread of Wye-
304 HUSS AT CONSTANCE
lifite opinions in Bohemia, and by whom he was commissioned
to root them out. Huss protested, and was excommunicated
by Zbynek in 1410. The result was great popular tumult in
Prague, where Huss was more than ever a national hero.
King Wenzel supported him. In 1412 Alexander V's successor,
Pope John XXIII (1410-1415), promised indulgence to all who
should take part in a crusade against King Ladislaus of Naples.
Huss opposed, holding that the Pope had no right to use physi
cal force, that money payments effected no true forgiveness,
and, unless of the predestinate, the indulgence could be of no
value to a man. The result was an uproar. The Pope's bull
was burned by the populace. Huss, however, lost many
strong supporters in the university and elsewhere, and was
once more excommunicated, while Prague was placed under
papal interdict. Wenzel now persuaded Huss, late in 1412, to
go into exile from Prague. To this period of retirement is
due the composition of his chief work — essentially a reproduc
tion of Wyclif— the De Ecclesia (On the Church). In 1413 a
synod in Rome formally condemned Wyclif s writings.
The great Council of Constance (see p. 308) was approaching,
and the confusion in Bohemia was certain to demand its con
sideration. Huss was asked to present himself before it, and
promised a "safe-conduct," afterward received, by the Holy
Roman Emperor, Sigismund. Huss, though he felt his life in
grave peril, determined to go, partly believing it his duty to
bear witness to what he deemed the truth, and partly convinced
that he could bring the council to his way of thinking. Shortly
after his arrival in Constance he was imprisoned. Sigismund
disregarded his promised safe-conduct. His Bohemian enemies
laid bitter charges against him. On May 4, 1415, the council
condemned Wyclif, and ordered his long-buried body burned.
Huss could hope for no favorable hearing. Yet, in the end,
the struggle resolved itself into a contest of principles. The
council maintained that every Christian was bound to submit
to its decisions. Only by so holding could it hope to end the
papal schism which was the scandal of Christendom. It in
sisted on Huss's complete submission. The Bohemian reformer
was of heroic mould. He would play no tricks with his con
science. Some of the accusations he declared false charges.
Other positions he could not modify unless convinced of their
error. He would not submit his conscience to the overruling
BOHEMIA IX REVOLT 305
judgment of the council. On July 0, 1415, he was condemned
and burned, meeting his death with the most steadfast cour
age.
While Huss *vas a prisoner in Constance his followers in
Prague began administering the cup to the laity in the Lord's
Supper— an action which Huss approved and which soon be
came the badge of the Hussite movement. The news of Huss's
death aroused the utmost resentment in Bohemia, to which
fuel was added when the Council of Constance forbade the use
of the cup by laymen; and caused Huss's disciple, Jerome of
Prague, to be burned in 1416. Bohemia was in revolution.
Two parties speedily developed there — an aristocratic, having
its principal seat in Prague, and known as the Utraquists
(communion in both bread and wine), and a radical, democratic,
called from its fortress, the Taborites.
The Utraquists would forbid only those practices which they
deemed prohibited by the "law of God," i. e., the Bible. They
demanded free preaching of the Gospel, the cup for the laity,
apostolic poverty, and strict clerical life. The Taborites re
pudiated all practices for which express warrant could not be
found in the "law of God." Fierce quarrel existed between
these factions, but both united to resist repeated crusades
directed against Bohemia. Under the leadership of the blind
Taborite general, John Zizka, all attempts to crush the Huss
ites were bloodily defeated. Church property was largely
confiscated. Nor were the opponents of the Hussites more
successful after Zizka 's death in 1424. Under Prokop the
Great the Hussites carried the war beyond the borders of
Bohemia. Some compromise seemed unavoidable. The Coun
cil of Basel (see p. 310), after long negotiation, therefore, met
the wishes of the Utraquists part way in 1433, granting the
use of the cup, and in a measure the other demands outlined
above. The Taborites resisted and were almost swept away
by the Utraquists, in 1434, at the battle of Lipan, in which
Prokop was killed. The triumphant Utraquists now came to
an agreement with the Council of Basel, in 1436, and on these
terms were nominally given place in the Roman communion.
Yet, in 1462 Pope Pius II (1458-1464) declared this agreement
void. The Utraquists, nevertheless, held their own, and the
Bohemian Parliament, in 1485 and 1512, declared their full
equality with the Catholics. At the Reformation a considera-
306 WYCLIF AND HUSS
ble portion welcomed the newer ideas ; others then returned to
the Roman Church.
The real representatives of Wyclifite principles were the
Taborites rather than the Utraquists. Out of the general
Hussite movement, with elements drawn from Taborites, Utra
quists, and Waldenses, rather than exclusively from the Tabor
ites there grew, from about 1453, the Unitas Fratrum, which
absorbed much that was most vital in the Hussite movement,
and became the spiritual ancestor of the later Moravians (see
pp. 502, 503).
Wyclif and Huss have often been styled forerunners of the
Reformation. The designation is true if regard is had to their
protest against the corruption of the church, their exaltation
of the Bible, and their contribution to the sum total of agita
tion that ultimately resulted in reform. When their doctrines
are examined, however, they appear to belong rather to the
Middle Ages. Their conception of the Gospel was that of a
"law." Their place for faith was no greater than in the
Roman communion. Their thought of the church was a one
sided development of Augustinianism. Their conception of
the relation of the clergy to property is that common to the
Waldenses and the founders of the great mendicant orders.
Their religious earnestness commands deep admiration, but in
spite of Luther's recognition of many points of agreement with
Huss, the Reformation owed little to their efforts.
SECTION XIII. THE REFORMING COUNCILS
The papal schism was the scandal of Christendom, but its
termination was not easy. The logic of mediaeval develop
ment was that no power exists on earth to which the papacy
is answerable. Yet good men everywhere felt that the schism
must be ended, and that the church must be reformed " in head
and members" — that is, in the papacy and clergy. The re
forms desired were moral and administrative. Doctrinal modi
fications were as yet unwished by Christendom as a whole. A
Wyclif might proclaim them in England, but he was generally
esteemed a heretic. Foremost among those who set themselves
seriously to the task of healing the schism were the teachers of
the age, especially those of the University of Paris. Marsilius of
Padua had there proclaimed the supremacy of a general coun*
GROWTH OF THE CONCILIA!! IDEA 307
cil in his Defensor Pacis of 1324. The necessities of the situa
tion rather than his arguments were rapidly leading to the same
conclusion. It was presented first with clearness by a doctor
of canon law, then in Paris, Conrad of Gelnhausen (1320?-
1390), who advised King Charles V of France (1364-1380), in
written treatises of 1379 and 1380, to unite with other princes
in calling a council, if necessary, without the consent of the
rival Popes. Conrad went no further than to hold that such
a council was justified by the necessities of an anomalous
situation. Conrad's proposal was reinforced, in such fashion
as to rob him of the popular credit of its origination, by the
treatise of another German scholar at the University of Paris
Heinrich of Langenstein (1340?-1397), set forth in 1381.
The thought of a general council as the best means of healing
the schism, thus launched, made speedy converts, not only in
the University of Paris, but in the great school of canon law in
Bologna, and even among the cardinals. To call a council
presented many difficulties, however, and the leaders at Paris
Peter of Ailli (Pierre d'Ailli) (1350-1420) and John Gerson
(Jean Charher de Gerson) (1363-1429), famed for their mastery
of nommalistic theology, and the latter eminent among Chris
tian mystics, were slow to adopt the conciliar plan. Efforts
were vainly made for years to induce the rival Popes to resign.
1 ranee withdrew from the Avignon Pope, without recognizing
the Roman, from 1398 to 1403, and again in 1408; but its ex
ample found slight following elsewhere. By 1408 d'Ailli and
Gerson had come to see in a council the only hope, and were
supported by Nicholas of Clemanges (1367-1437), a former
teacher of the Parisian university who had been papal secretary
in Avignon from 1397 to 1405, to whom one great source of
evil in the church seemed the general neglect of the Scriptures.
The cardinals of both Popes were now convinced of the
necessity of a council. Meeting together in Leghorn, in 1408,
they now issued a call in their own names for such an assembly
m Pisa, to gather on March 25, 1409. There it met with an
attendance not only of cardinals, bishops, the heads of the great
orders, and leading abbots, but also of doctors of theology and
canon law, and the representatives of lay sovereigns. Neither
Pope was present or acknowledged its rightfulness. Both were
declared deposed. This was a practical assertion that the
council was superior to the papacy. Its action, however, was
308 COUNCILS OF PISA AND CONSTANCE
too hasty, for instead of ascertaining, as d'Ailli advised, whether
the person of the proposed new Pope would be generally ac
ceptable, the cardinals now elected Peter Philarges, archbishop
of Milan, who took the name Alexander V (1409-1410). The
council then dissolved, leaving the question of reform to a
future council.
In some respects the situation was worse than before the
Council of Pisa met. Rome, Naples, and considerable sections
of Germany clung to Gregory XII. Spain, Portugal, and Scot
land supported Benedict XIII. England, France, and some
portions of Germany acknowledged Alexander V. There were
three Popes where before there had been two. Yet, though
mismanaged, the Council of Pisa was a mark of progress. It
had shown that the church was one, and it increased the hope
that a better council could end the schism. This assembly
had been called by the cardinals. For such invitation history
had no precedent. A summons by the Emperor, if possible
with the consent of one or more of the Popes, would be con
sonant with the practice of the early church. To that end
those supporting the council idea now labored.
The new Holy Roman Emperor-elect, Sigismund (1410-
1437), was convinced of the necessity of a council. He recog
nized as Pope John XXIII (1410-1415), one of the least worthy
of occupants of that office, who had been chosen successor to
Alexander V in the Pisan line. Sigismund used John's diffi
culties with King Ladislaus of Naples, to secure from him
joint action by which Emperor-elect and Pope called a council
to meet in Constance on November 1, 1414. There the most
brilliant and largely attended gathering of the Middle Ages
assembled. As in Pisa, it included not only cardinals and
bishops, but doctors of theology and representatives of mon-
archs, though the lay delegates were without votes. Sigismund
was present in person, and also John XXIII.
John XXIII hoped to secure the indorsement of the council.
To this end he had brought with him many Italian bishops.
To neutralize their votes the council organized by "nations,"
the English, German, and French, to which the Italians were
forced to join as a fourth. Each "nation" had one vote, and
one was assigned also to the cardinals. Despairing of the
council's approval, John XXIII attempted to disrupt its ses
sion by flight, in March, 1415. Under Gerson's vigorous lead-
CONSTANCE; THE SCHISM HEALED 309
ership the council, however, declared on April 6, 1415, that as
"representing the Catholic Church militant [it] has its power
immediately from Christ, and every one, whatever his position
or rank, even if it be the papal dignity itself, is bound to obey
it in all those things which pertain to the faith, to the healing
of the schism, and to the general reformation of the Church of
God."1 On May 29 the council declared John XXIII deposed.
On July 4 Gregory XII resigned. The council had rid the
church of two Popes by its successful assertion of its supreme
authority over all in the church. It is easy to see why its
leaders insisted on a full submission from Huss, whose trials
and martyrdom were contemporary with these events (ante,
p. 304).
Benedict XIII proved more difficult. Sigismund himself,
therefore, journeyed to Spain. Benedict he could not persuade
to resign, and that obstinate pontiff asserted himself till death,
in 1422 or 1423, as the only legitimate Pope. What Sigismund
was unable to effect with Benedict he accomplished with the
Spanish kingdoms. They and Scotland repudiated Benedict.
The Spaniards joined the council as a fifth "nation," and, on
July 26, 1417, Benedict, or Peter de Luna, as he was once more
called, was formally deposed. The careful action of the coun
cil, in contrast to the haste in Pisa, had made it certain that
no considerable section of Christendom would support the
former Popes.
One main purpose of the council had been moral and ad
ministrative reform. Here the jealousies of the several inter
ests prevented achievement of real importance. The cardinals
desired no changes that would materially lessen their revenue.
Italy, on the whole, profited by the existing situation. England
had relative self-government already in ecclesiastical affairs,
thanks to its Kings. France was at war with England, and
indisposed to unite with that land. So it went, with the result
that the council finally referred the question of reforms to the
next Pope "in conjunction with this holy council or with the
deputies of the several nations" — that is> each nation was left
to make the best bargain it could. The council enumerated
a list of subjects for reform discussion, which relate almost
entirely to questions of appointment, taxation, or administra
tion.2 As a reformatory instrument the Council of Constance
1 Robinson, 1 : 511. * Ibid., 1 : 513.
310 COUNCILS OF CONSTANCE AND BASEL
was a bitter disappointment. Its one great achievement was
that it ended the schism. In November, 1417, the cardinals,
with six representatives from each nation, elected a Roman
cardinal, Otto Colonna, as Pope. He took the name Martin V
(1417-1431). Roman Christendom had once more a single
head. In April, 1418, the council ended, the new Pope prom
ising to call another in five years, in compliance with the de
cree of the council.1
The Council of Constance was a most interesting ecclesiasti
cal experiment. It secured the transformation of the papacy
from an absolute into a constitutional monarchy. The Pope
was to remain the executive of the church, but was to be regu
lated by a legislative body, meeting at frequent intervals and
representing all interests in Christendom.
It seemed that this great constitutional change had really
been accomplished. Martin V called the new council to meet
in Pavia in 1423. The plague prevented any considerable
attendance. The Pope would gladly have had no more of
councils. The Hussite wars distressed Europe, however (ante,
p. 305), and such pressure was brought to bear on him that in
January, 1431, Martin V summoned a council to meet in Basel,
and appointed Cardinal Giuliano Cesarini his legate to con
duct it. Less than two months later Martin V was dead and
Eugene IV (1431-1447) was Pope. The council opened in
July, 1431, but in December Eugene ordered it adjourned, to
meet in Bologna in 1433. The council refused, and re-enacted
the declaration of Constance that it was superior to the Pope.
Thus, almost from the first, bad feeling existed between the
Council of Basel and the papacy. Mindful that jealousies be
tween "nations" had frustrated the reform plans in Constance,
the council rejected such groupings, and instead organized four
large committees, on reform, doctrine, public peace, and general
questions. It began its work with great vigor and promise of
success. It made an apparent reconciliation with the moder
ate Hussites in 1433 (ante, p. 305). Roman unity seemed re
stored. The Pope found little support and, before the close
of 1433, formally recognized the council. Its future seemed
assured.
The Council of Basel now proceeded to those administrative
and moral reforms which had failed of achievement at Con-
1 Robinson, 1 : 512.
EFFORTS TO REUNITE CHRISTENDOM 311
stance. It ordered the holding of a synod in each diocese an
nually, and in each archbishopric every two years, in which
abuses should be examined and corrected. It provided for a
general councfl every ten years. It reasserted the ancient
rights of canonical election against papal appointments. It
limited ^appeals to Rome. It fixed the cardinals at twenty-four
in number, and ordered that no nation should be represented
by more than a third of the college. It cut off the annates and
the other more oppressive papal taxes entirely. All this was
good, but the spirit in which it was done was increasingly a
vindictive attitude toward Pope Eugene. The taxes by which
the papacy had heretofore been maintained were largely abol
ished, but no honorable support of the papacy was provided in
their stead. This failure not only increased the anger of the
papacy but caused division in the council itself. At this point
a great opportunity presented itself, of which Eugene IV made
full use, and regarding which the council so put itself in the
wrong as to ruin its prospects.
The Eastern empire was now hard pressed in its final strug
gles with the conquering Turks. In the hope of gaining help
from the West the Emperor, John VIII (1425-1448), with the
patriarch of Constantinople, Joseph II (1416-1439) and Bes-
sarion (1395-1472), the gifted archbishop of Nicsea, were ready
to enter into negotiation for the union of the Greek and Latin
Churches. Both Pope and council were disposed to use this
approach for their several advantage. The majority of the
council would have the Greeks come to Avignon. The Pope
offered an Italian city, which the Greeks naturally preferred.
The council divided on the issue in 1437, the minority seceding,
including Cesarini. The Pope now announced the transference
of the council to Ferrara to meet the Greeks. Thither the
minority went, and there in March, 1438, the P]astern Emperor,
with many Oriental prelates, arrived. The Pope had practi
cally won. An event so full of promise as the reunion of
Christendom robbed the still continuing Council of Basel of
much of its interest.
The Council of Ferrara, which was transferred to Florence
in 1439, witnessed protracted discussion between Greeks and
Latins, in which as a final result the primacy of the Pope was
accepted in vague terms, which seemed to preserve the rights
of the Eastern patriarchs, the Greeks retained their peculiarities
312 FAILURE OF THE COUNCIL OF BASEL
of worship and priestly marriage, while the disputed filioque
clause of the creed was acknowledged by the Greeks, though
with the understanding that they would not add it to the
ancient symbol. Mark, the vigorous archbishop of Ephesus, re
fused agreement, but the Emperor and most of his ecclesiastical
following approved, and the reunion of the two churches was
joyfully proclaimed in July, 1439. An event so happy greatly
increased the prestige of Pope Eugene IV. The hollowness of
the achievement was not at once apparent. Reunions with
the Armenians, and with certain groups of Monophysites and
Nestorians, were also announced in Florence or speedily after
the council. The reconciliation of the Armenians in 1439 was
the occasion of a famous papal bull defining the mediaeval doc
trine of the sacraments. Yet from the first the Oriental monks
were opposed. On the Greeks' return Mark of Ephesus became
the hero of the hour. Bessarion, whom Eugene had made a
cardinal, had to fly to Italy, where he was to have a distin
guished career of literary and ecclesiastical service. No effi
cient military help came to the Greeks from the West, and the
capture of Constantinople by the Turks in 1453 permanently
frustrated those political hopes which had inspired the union
efforts of 1439.
Meanwhile the majority in Basel proceeded to more radical
action under the leadership of its only remaining cardinal, the
able and excellent but dictatorial Louis d'Allemand (1380?-
1450). In 1439 it voted Eugene IV deposed, and chose as his
successor a half-monastic layman, Duke Amadeus of Savoy,
who took the name Felix V. By this time, however, the Coun
cil of Basel was fast losing its remaining influence. Eugene IV
had won, and was succeeded in Rome by Nicholas V (1447-
1455). Felix V laid down his impossible papacy in 1449. The
council put the best face on its defeat by choosing Nicholas V
his successor, and ended its troubled career. Though the coun
cil idea still lived and was to be powerful in the Reformation
age, the fiasco in Basel had really ruined the hope of trans
forming the papacy into a constitutional monarchy or of effect
ing needed reform through conciliar action.
Yet if the council thus failed, individual nations profited by
its quarrel with the papacy, notably France, where the mon
archy was coming into new power through effective resistance
to England under impulses initiated by Joan of Arc (1410?-
NATIONAL BARGAINS 313
1431). In 1438 King Charles VII (1422-1461), with the clergy
and nobles, adopted the "pragmatic sanction" of Bourges, by
which the greater part of the reforms attempted in Basel were
enacted into law for France. France therefore secured relief
from the most pressing papal taxes and interferences, and this
freedom -had not a little to do with the attitude of the land
previous to the Reformation age.
Not so fortunate was Germany. There the nobles in the
Reichstag in Mainz of 1439 adopted an "acceptation" much
resembling the French "pragmatic sanction"; but the divisions
and weakness of the country gave room to papal intrigue, so
that its provisions were practically limited by the Concordat
of Aschaffenburg of 1448. Certain privileges were granted to
particular princes; but Germany, as a whole, remained under
the weight of the papal taxation.
Throughout the period of the councils a new force was mani
festing itself — that of nationality. The Council of Constance
had voted by nations. It had authorized the nations to make
terms with the papacy. Bohemia had dealt with its religious
situation as a nation. France had asserted its national rights.
Germany had tried to do so. With the failure of the councils
to effect administrative reform, men began asking whether what
they had sought might not be secured by national action. It
was a feeling that was to increase till the Reformation, and
greatly to influence the course of that struggle.
SECTION XIV. THE ITALIAN RENAISSANCE AND ITS POPES
The most remarkable intellectual event contemporary with
the story of the papacy in Avignon and the schism was the be
ginning of the Renaissance. That great alteration in mental
outlook has been treated too often as without mediaeval ante
cedents. It is coming to be recognized that the Middle Ages
were not uncharacterized by individual initiative, that the con
trol of the church was never such as to make other-worldliness
wholly dominant, and that the literary monuments of Latin
antiquity, at least, were widely known. The revival of Roman
law had begun contemporaneously with the Crusades, and had
attracted increasing attention to that normative feature of
ancient thought, first in Italy and later in France and Germany.
Yet when all these elements are recognized, it remains true that
314 RISE OF THE RENAISSANCE
the Renaissance involved an essentially new outlook on the
world, in which emphasis was laid on its present life, beauty,
and satisfaction — on man as man — rather than on a future
heaven and hell, and on man as an object of salvation or of
loss. The means by which this transformation was wrought
was a reappreciation of the spirit of classical antiquity, espe
cially as manifested in its great literary monuments.
The Renaissance first found place in Italy. Its rise was
favored by many influences, among which three, at least, were
conspicuous. The two great dominating powers of the Middle
Ages, the papacy and empire, were suddenly lamed, as far as
Italy was concerned, by the collapse of the imperial power in the
latter part of the thirteenth century and the removal of the pa
pacy to Avignon early in the fourteenth. The commerce of It
aly, fostered by the Crusades and continuing after their close,
had led to a higher cultural development in the peninsula than
elsewhere in Europe. The intense division of Italian politics
gave to the cities a quality of life not elsewhere existent, ren
dering local recognition of talent easy, and tending to empha
size individualism.
The earliest Italian in whom the Renaissance spirit was a
dominating force was Petrarch (1304-1374). Brought up in
Avignon, and in clerical orders, his real interest was in the
revival of Latin literature, especially the writings of Cicero.
A diligent student, and above all a man of letters, he was the
friend of princes, and a figure of international influence. Scho
lasticism he despised. Aristotle he condemned. Though really
religious in feeling, however lacking in practice, his point of
view was very unlike the mediaeval. He had, moreover, that
lack of profound seriousness, that egotistical vanity and that
worship of form rather than of substance which were to be
characteristic of much of Italian humanism; but he aroused
men to a new interest in antiquity and a new world-outlook.
Petrarch's friend and disciple was Boccaccio (1313-1375), now
chiefly remembered for his Decameron, but greatly influential in
his own age in promoting the study of Greek, in unlocking the
mysteries of classical mythology, and in furthering humanistic
studies in Florence and Naples.
Greek may never have died out in southern Italy, but its
humanistic cultivation began when, in 1360, Boccaccio brought
Leontius Pilatus to Florence. About 1397 Greek was taught,
THE RENAISSANCE 315
under the auspices of the government of the same city, by
Manuel Chrysoloras (1355?-1415), who translated Homer and
Plato. The Council of Ferrara and Florence (1438-1439) (ante,
p. 311) greatly fostered this desire to master the treasures of
the East by bringing Greeks and Latins together. Bessarion
(ante, p. 312) thenceforth aided the work. To the influence of
Gemistos Plethon (1355-1450), another Greek attendant on this
reunion council, was due the founding of the Platonic Academy,
about 1442, by Cosimo de' Medici (1389-1464), the real ruler
of Florence. There the study of Plato was pursued ardently,
later, under the leadership of Marsilio Ficino (1433-1499).
Ficino, who became a priest, combined an earnest Christianity
with his platonic enthusiasm. He believed a return to the Chris
tian sources the chief need of the time — a feeling not shared
by the majority of Italian humanists, but to be profoundly
influential beyond the Alps, as propagated by his admirers,
Jacques Le Fevre in France and John Colet in England. Colet,
in turn, transmitted it to Erasmus. Almost as influential was
Pico della Mirandola (1463-1494), whose zeal for Hebrew and
knowledge of the Kabala were to influence Reuchlin.
Historical criticism was developed by Lorenzo Valla (1405-
1457), who exposed the falsity of the Donation of Constantine
(ante, p. 204) about 1440, and denied the composition of the
Apostles' Creed by the Apostles. He criticised the rightfulness
of monastic vows, and laid the foundation of New Testament
studies, in 1444, by a comparison of the Vulgate with the Greek.
An examination of the dates just given will show that the
Renaissance movement in Italy was in full development before
the fall of Constantinople, in 1453. By the middle of the fif
teenth century it was dominating the educated class in Italy.
In general, its attitude toward the church was one of indiffer
ence. It revived widely a pagan point of view, and sought to
reproduce the life of antiquity in its vices as well as its virtues.
Few periods in the world's history have been so boastfully cor
rupt as that of the Italian Renaissance.
The Renaissance movement was given wings by a great in
vention, about 1440-1450 — that of printing from movable
type. Whether Mainz or Strassburg, in Germany, or Haarlem
in Holland was its birthplace is still a matter of learned dispute.
The art spread with rapidity, and not only rendered the posses
sion of the manv the books which had heretofore been the
316 THE POPES PATRONS OF THE RENAISSANCE
property of the few, but, from the multiplication of copies,
made the results of learning practically indestructible. More
than thirty thousand publications were issued before 1500.
No mention of the Renaissance could fail to note its services
to art. Beginnings of better things had been made, indeed,
in Italy before its influence was felt. Cimabue (1240?-1302?),
Giotto" (1267?-! 337), and Era Angelico (1387-1455) belong to
the pre-Renaissance epoch, remarkable as is their work. With
Masaccio (1402-1429), Filippo Lippi (1406-1469), Botticelli
(1444-1510), and Ghirlandajo (1449-1494), painting advanced
through truer knowledge of perspective, greater anatomical
accuracy, and more effective grouping to the full noonday of
a Leonardo da Vinci (1452-1519), a Raphael Sanzio (1483-
1520), a Michelangelo Buonarroti (1475-1564), and their
mighty associates. Sculpture received a similar impulse in
the work of Ghiberti (1378-1455), and Donatello (1386-1466) ;
while architecture was transformed by Brunelleschi (1379-1446),
Bramante (1444?-1514), and Michelangelo. Most of the work
of these great artists, however classical in motive, was wrought
in the service of the church.
The most conspicuous early seat of the Italian Renaissance
was Florence, though it was influential in many cities. With the
papacy of Nicholas V (1447-1455), it found, for the first time,
a mighty patron in the head of the church, and Rome became
its chief home. To him the foundation of the Vatican library
was due. The next Pope, Alfonso Borgia, a Spaniard, who
took the name Calixtus III (1455-1458), was no friend of hu
manism, and was earnestly though fruitlessly, intent on a
crusade that should drive the Turks from the recently con
quered Constantinople. In Enea Silvio Piccolomini, who ruled
as Pius II (1458-1464), the papacy had a remarkable occupant.
In early life a supporter of the conciliar movement, and active
at the Council of Basel, he had won distinction as a humanistic
writer of decidedly unclerical tone. Reconciled to Eugene IV,
he became a cardinal, and ultimately Pope, now opposing all
the conciliar views that he had once supported, and forbidding
future appeals to a general council. His efforts to stir Europe
against the Turks were unavailing. Yet, in spite of his chang
ing and self-seeking attitude, he had the most worthy concep
tion of the duties of the papal office of any Pope of the latter
half of the fifteenth century. The succeeding Popes, till after
THE POPES AS ITALIAN PRINCES 317
the dawn of the Reformation, were patrons of letters and
artists, great builders who adorned Rome and felt the full
impulse of the Renaissance.
Meanwhile a change had come over the ideals and ambitions
of the papacy. The stay in Avignon and the schism had ren
dered effective control in the States of the Church impossible.
They were distracted by the contests of the people of Rome,
and especially by the rivalries of the noble houses, notably
those of the Colonna and the Orsini. Italy had gradually
consolidated iijto five large states, Venice, Milan, Florence,
Naples, or the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, as it was called,
and the States of the Church, though many smaller territories
remained outside these larger groups, and were objects of con
test. The politics of Italy became a kaleidoscopic effort to
extend the possessions of the larger powers, and to match one
against the other, in which intrigue, murder, and duplicity were
employed to an almost unexampled extent.
Into this game of Italian politics the papacy now fully
plunged. Its desire was to consolidate and increase the States
of the Church and maintain political independence. Its ambi
tions and its aims were like those of other Italian rulers. The
papacy became secularized as at no other period in its history,
save possibly the tenth century. Martin V (1417-1431), the
Pope chosen at the Council of Constance, himself a Colonna,
succeeded, in a measure, in restoring papal authority in Rome.
His successor, Eugene IV (1431-1447), was not so fortunate,
and spent a large part of his pontificate in Florence. Nicholas
V (1447-1455), the humanist, effectively controlled Rome and
strengthened the papal authority — a policy which was con
tinued by Calixtus III (1455-1458), Pius II (1458-1464), and
Paul II (1464-1471). With Sixtus IV (1471-1484) political
ambition took almost complete control of the papacy. He
warred with Florence, he sought to enrich and advance his
relatives, he aimed to extend the States of the Church. A
patron of learning, he built extensively. The Sistine Chapel
preserves his name. All these endeavors required money, and
he increased papal taxation and the financial abuses of the
curia. He made into an article of faith the wide-spread belief
that indulgences are available for souls in purgatory by a bull
of 1476.1
1 Kidd, Documents Illustrative of the Continental Reformation, p. 3.
318 THE POPES AS ITALIAN PRINCES
The next Pope, Innocent VIII (1484-1492), was of weak and
pliant nature, notorious through the open manner in which
he sought to advance the fortunes of his children, his extrava
gant expenditures, and his sale of offices. He even received a
pension from Sultan Bayazid II for keeping the latter's brother
and rival, Jem, a prisoner. Innocent's successor, Alexander
VI (1492-1503), a nephew of Calixtus III, and a Spaniard
(Rodrigo Borgia), obtained the papacy not without bribery,
and was a man of unbridled immorality, though of considera
ble political insight. His great effort was to advance his bas
tard children, especially his daughter, Lucrezia Borgia, by ad
vantageous marriages, and his unscrupulous and murderous
son, Cesare Borgia, by aiding him to carve a principality out
of the States of the Church. His reign saw the beginning of
the collapse of Italian independence through the invasion of
Charles VIII of France (1483-1498), in 1494, in an attempt to
assert the French King's claim to the throne of Naples. In
1499 Louis XII of France (1498-1515), conquered Milan, and
in 1503 Ferdinand the Catholic, of Spain (1479-1516), secured
Naples. Italy became the wretched battleground of French
and Spanish rivalries.
Under such circumstances to increase the temporal power
of the papacy was not easy ; but the task was achieved by the
most warlike of the Popes, Julius II (1503-1513), nephew of
Sixtus IV. The Orsini and Colonna were reconciled, Cesare
Borgia driven from Italy, the cities of Romagna freed from
their Venetian conquerors, the various nations in Europe
grouped in leagues, with the result that the French were, for
the time, expelled from Italy. In this contest Louis XII se
cured a parody of a general council in Pisa, which Pope Julius
answered by calling the Fifth Lateran Council in Rome. It
met from 1512 to 1517, and though reforms were ordered it
accomplished nothing of importance. Julius II was undoubt
edly a ruler of great talents, who led his soldiers personally, and
was animated by a desire to strengthen the temporal power of
the papacy, rather than to enrich his relatives. As a patron of
art and a builder he was among the most eminent of the Popes.
Julius II was succeeded by Giovanni de' Medici, who took
the name Leo X (1513-1521). With all the artistic and literary
tastes of the great Florentine family of which he was a member,
he combined a love of display and extravagant expenditure.
ST. CATHERINE. SAVONAROLA 319
Far less warlikefthan Julius II, and free from the personal vices
of some of his predecessors, he nevertheless made his prime
interests. the enlargement of the States of the Church, and the
balancing of the various factions of Italy, domestic and foreign,
for the political advantage of the papacy. He strove to ad
vance his relatives. In 1516 he secured by a "concordat" with
Francis I of France (1515-1547) the abolition of the "Prag
matic Sanction" (ante, p. 313) on terms which left to the King
the nomination of all high French ecclesiastics and the right
to tax the clergy, while the annates and other similar taxes
went to the Pope. The next year a revolt began in Germany,
the gravity of which Leo never really comprehended, which was
to tear half of Europe from the Roman obedience.
Such Popes represented the Italian Renaissance, but they
in no sense embodied the real spirit of a church which was to
millions the source of comfort in this life and of hope for that
to come. A revolution was inevitable. Nor did such a pa
pacy represent the real religious life of Italy. The Renaissance
affected only the educated and the upper classes. The people
responded to appeals of preachers and the example of those
they believed to be saints, though unfortunately seldom with
lasting results save on individual lives.
Such a religious leader, when the Renaissance was young, was
St. Catherine (1347-1380), the daughter of a dyer of Siena.
A mystic, the recipient as she believed of divinely sent visions,
she was a practical leader of affairs, a healer of family quarrels,
a main cause in persuading the papacy to return from Avignon
to Rome, a fearless denouncer of clerical evils, and an am
bassador to whom Popes and cities listened with respect.
Her correspondence involved counsel of almost as much politi
cal as religious value to many of the leaders of the age in
church and state alike.
Even more famous in the later period of the Renaissance was
Girolamo Savonarola of Florence (1452-1498). A native of
Ferrara, intended for the medical profession, a refusal of mar
riage turned his thoughts to a monastic life. In 1474 he became
a Dominican in Bologna. Eight years later his work in Flor
ence began. At first little successful as a preacher, he came to
speak with immense popular effectiveness, that was heightened
by the general conviction which he himself shared that he was
a divinely inspired prophet, He was in no sense a Protestant,
320 SAVONAROLA
His religious outlook was thoroughly mediaeval. The French
invasion of 1494 led to a popular revolution against the Medici,
and Savonarola now became the real ruler of Florence, which
he sought to transform into a penitential city. A semi-monastic
life was adopted by man}^ of the inhabitants. At the carnival
seasons of 1496 and 1497, masks, indecent books and pictures
were burned. For the time being, the life of Florence was
radically changed. But Savonarola aroused enemies. The
adherents of the deposed Medici hated him, and above all,
Pope Alexander VI, whose evil character and misrule Savon
arola denounced. The Pope excommunicated him and de
manded his punishment. Friends sustained him for a while,
but the fickle populace turned against him. In April, 1498, he
was arrested, cruelly tortured, and on May 23 hanged and his
body burned by the city government. Not the least of Alex
ander VI's crimes was his persecution of this preacher of
righteousness, though Savonarola's death was due quite as
much to Florentine reaction against him as to the hostility of
the Pope.
SECTION XV. THE NEW NATIONAL POWERS
The half-century from 1450 to 1500 saw a remarkable growth
in royal authority and national consciousness in the western
kingdoms of Europe. France, which had seemed well-nigh
ruined by the long wars with England, from 1339 to 1453,
came out of them with the monarchy greatly strengthened,
since these struggles had been immensely destructive to the
feudal nobility. Louis XI (1461-1483), by intrigue, arms, and
tyranny, with the aid of commoners, broke the power of the
feudal nobility and secured for the crown an authority it had
not hitherto possessed. His son, Charles VIII (1483-1498),
was able to lead the now centralized state into a career of for
eign conquest in Italy that was to open a new epoch in Euro
pean politics and give rise to rivalries that were to determine
the political background of the whole Reformation age. What
these Kings had attempted in centralization at home, and in
conquest abroad, was carried yet further by Louis XII (1498-
1515), and by the brilliant and ambitious Francis I (1515-1547).
France was now a strong, centralized monarchy. Its church
was largely under royal control, and to a considerable degree
THE NEW NATIONAL POWERS 321
relieved of the worst papal abuses, thanks to the " Pragmatic
Sanction" of 14&8 (ante, p. 313) ; and the custom which grew
up with the strengthening of the monarchy in the fifteenth
century that appeals could be taken from church courts to
those of the King. The control of the monarchy over clerical
appointments, clerical taxation, and clerical courts was in
creased by the "concordat" of 1516 (ante, p. 319), which gave
to the Pope in turn desired taxes. By the dawn of the Reforma
tion the church of France was, in many respects, a state church.
In England the Wars of the Roses, between Yorkists and
Lancastrians, from 1455 to 1485, resulted in the destruction of
the power of the high nobility to the advantage of the crown.
Parliament survived. The King must rule in legal form; but
the power of a Henry VII (1485-1509), the first of the house
of Tudor, was greater than that of any English sovereign had
been for a century, and was exercised with almost unlimited
absolutism, though in parliamentary form, by his even abler
son, Henry VIII (1509-1547). The English sovereigns had
attained, even before the Reformation, a large degree of au
thority in ecclesiastical affairs, and, as in France, the church in
England was largely national at the close of the fifteenth cen
tury.
This nationalizing process was nowhere in so full develop
ment as in Spain, where it was taking on the character of a re
ligious awakening, which was to make that land a pattern for
the conception of reform, often, though not very correctly, called
the Counter-Reformation — a conception that was to oppose
the Teutonic ideal of revolution, and was ultimately able to
hold the allegiance of half of Europe to a purified Roman Church.
The rise of Spain was the political wonder of the latter part of
the fifteenth century. Aside from the main currents of medi
aeval European life, the history of the peninsula had been a
long crusade to throw off the Mohammedan yoke, which had
been imposed in 711. Nowhere in Europe were patriotism
and Catholic orthodoxy so interwoven. The struggle had re
sulted, by the thirteenth century, in the restriction of the
Moors to the kingdom of Granada, and in the formation of
four Christian kingdoms, Castile, Aragon, Portugal, and Na
varre. These states were weak, and the royal power limited
by the feudal nobility. A radical change came when the pros
pective rulership of the larger part of the peninsula was united,
322 THE SPANISH REFORM
in 1469, by the marriage of Ferdinand, heir of Aragon (King,
1479-1516) with Isabella, heiress of Castile (Queen, 1474-1504).
Under their joint sovereignty Spain took a new place in Euro
pean life. The disorderly nobles were repressed. The royal
authority was asserted. In 1492 Granada was conquered and
Mohammedanism overcome. The same year witnessed the
discovery of a new world by Columbus, under Spanish auspices,
which speedily became a source of very considerable revenue
to the royal treasury. The French invasions of Italy led to
Spanish interference, which locjged Spain firmly in Naples by
1503, and soon rendered Spanish influence predominant through
out Italy. On Ferdinand's death, in 1516, these great posses
sions passed to his grandson, already heir of Austria and the
Netherlands, and to wear the imperial title as Charles V.
Spain had suddenly become the first power in Europe.
The joint sovereigns, Ferdinand and Isabella, devoted them
selves no less energetically to the control of the church than to
the extension of their temporal authority. The "Spanish
awakening" was in no sense unique. It did not differ in prin
ciple from much that had been attempted elsewhere in the
later Middle Ages. No nation with a history like that of
Spain could desire doctrinal change. It was intensely devoted
to the system of which the papacy was the spiritual head.
But it believed that papal aggressions in administrative affairs
should be limited by royal authority, and that an educated,
moral, and zealous clergy could, by the same power, be encour
aged and maintained. It was by reason of the success with
which these results were accomplished that the Spanish awak
ening became the model of the "Counter-Reformation."
No more conscientious or religiously minded sovereign ever
ruled than Isabella, and if Ferdinand was primarily a politician,
he was quick to see the political advantages of a policy that
would place the Spanish church in subjection to the crown.
In 1482 the joint sovereigns forced Pope Sixtus IV to agree
to a concordat placing nomination to the higher ecclesiastical
posts in the royal control. The policy thus begun was speedily
extended by the energetic sovereigns. Papal bulls now re
quired royal approval for promulgation. Church courts were
supervised. The clergy were taxed for the benefit of the state.
Ferdinand and Isabella now proceeded to fill the important
stations in the Spanish church not only with men devoted to
FERDINAND, ISABELLA, AND XIMENES 323
the royal interests, but of strenuous piety and disciplinary zeal.
In this effort they had the aid of many men of ability, but chief
among them stood Gonzalez (or Francisco) Ximenes de Cis-
neros (1436-1517), in whom the Spanish awakening had its
typical representative.
Born of a family of the lower nobility, Ximenes went to Rome
after studies in Alcala and Salamanca. On his return, in 1465,
after six years in the seat of the papacy, he showed great ability
in church business and much talent as a preacher. About
1480 he was appointed vicar-general of the diocese by Men-
doza, then bishop of Siguenza. In the full tide of success
Ximenes now renounced all his honors and became a Franciscan
monk of the strictest observance. Not content with these
austerities, he adopted the hermit's life. In 1492, however,
on recommendation of Mendoza, now become archbishop of
Toledo, Queen Isabella appointed Ximenes her confessor, and
consulted him in affairs of state as well as questions of con
science. Queen and confessor worked in harmony, and under
their vigorous action a thoroughgoing reform of discipline was
undertaken in the disorderly monasteries of the land. Ximenes's
influence was but increased when, in 1495, on Isabella's insist
ence, and against his own protests, he became Mendoza's
successor in the archbishopric of Toledo, not only the highest
ecclesiastical post in Spain, but one with which the grand-
chancellorship of Castile was united. Here he maintained his
ascetic life. Supported by the Queen, he turned all the powers
of his high office to rid Spain of unworthy clergy and monks.
No opposition could thwart him, and more than a thousand
monks are said to have left the peninsula rather than submit
to his discipline. The moral character and zeal of the Span
ish clergy were greatly improved.
Ximenes, though no great scholar, saw the need of an edu
cated clergy. He had encountered Renaissance influences in
Rome, and would turn them wholly to the service of the church.
In 1498 he founded the University of Alcala de Henares, to
which he devoted a large part of his episcopal revenues, and
where he gathered learned men, among them four professors
of Greek and Hebrew. A quarter of a century later Alcala
counted seven thousand students. Though opposed to general
reading of the Bible by the laity, Ximenes believed that the
Scriptures should be the principal study of the clergy. The
324 THE SPANISH INQUISITION
noblest monument of this conviction is the Complutensian
Polyglot (Alcala = Complutum), on which he directed the labor
from 1502 to 1517. The Old Testament was presented in He
brew, Greek, and Latin, with the Targum on the Pentateuch ;
the New Testament in Greek and Latin. The New Testament
was in print by 1515. To Ximenes belongs the honor, there
fore, of first printing the New Testament in Greek, though as
papal permission for publication could not be obtained till
1520, the Greek Testament, issued in 1516, by Erasmus, was
earlier on the market.
The less attractive side of Ximenes's character is to be seen
in his willingness to use force for the conversion of the Moham
medans. In affairs of state his firmness and wisdom were of
vast service to Isabella, Ferdinand, and Charles V, till his
death in 1517.
The intellectual impulse thus inaugurated by Ximenes led
ultimately to a revival of the theology of Aquinas, begun by
Francisco de Vittoria (?-1546) in Salamanca, and continued
by Vittoria's disciples, the great Roman theologians of the
early struggle with Protestantism, Domingo de Soto (1494-
1560) and Melchior Cano (1525-1560).
Characteristic of the Spanish awakening was the reorganiza
tion of the inquisition. The Spanish temper viewed orthodoxy
and patriotism as essentially one, and regarded the mainte
nance of their religions by Jews and Mohammedans, or relapse
by such of those dissenters as had embraced Christianity, as
perils to church and state alike. Accordingly, in 1480, Ferdi
nand and Isabella established the inquisition, entirely under
royal authority, and with inquisitors appointed by the sovereign.
It was this national character that was the distinguishing
feature of the Spanish inquisition, and led to protests by Pope
Sixtus IV, to which the sovereigns turned deaf ears. Supported
by the crown, it speedily became a fearful instrument, under the
leadership of Tomas Torquemada (1420-1498). Undoubtedly
its value in breaking the independence of the nobles and re
plenishing the treasury by confiscation commended it to the
sovereigns, but its chief claim to popular favor was its repres
sion of heresy and dissent.
Spain had, therefore, at the close of the fifteenth century,
the most independent national church of any nation in Europe,
in which a moral and intellectual renewal — not destined to be
THE CONDITION OF GERMANY 325
permanent — was in more vigorous progress than elsewhere;
yet a church intensely mediaeval in doctrine and practice, and
fiercely intolerant of all heresy.
In Germany the situation was very different. The empire
lacked all real unity. The imperial crown, in theory elective,
was worn by members of the Austrian house of Habsburg from
1438 to 1740, but the Emperors had power as possessors of
their hereditary lands, rather than as holders of imperial au
thority. Under Frederick III (1440-1493) wars between the
princes and cities and the disorder of the lower nobility, who
lived too often by what was really highway robbery, kept the
land in a turmoil which the Emperor was powerless to suppress.
Matters were somewhat better under Maximilian I (1493-
1519), and an attempt was made to give stronger central au
thority to the empire by frequent meetings of the old feudal
Reichstag, the establishment of an imperial supreme court
(1495), and the division of the empire into districts for the
better preservation of public peace (1512). Efforts were made
to form an imperial army and collect imperial taxes. These
reforms had little vitality. The decisions of the court could
not be enforced nor the taxes collected. The Reichstag was,
indeed, to play a great role in the Reformation days, but it
was a clumsy parliament, meeting in three houses, one of the
imperial electors, the second of lay and spiritual princes, and
the third of delegates from the free imperial cities. The lower
nobles and the common people had no share in it.
The imperial cities were an important element in German
life, owning no superior but the feeble rule of the Emperor.
They were industrious and wealthy, but they were far from
democratic in their government, and were thoroughly self-
seeking as far as the larger interests of Germany were con
cerned. Their commercial spirit led them to resist the exac
tions of clergy and princes alike.
In no country of Europe was the peasantry in a state of
greater unrest, especially in southwestern Germany, where in
surrections occurred in 1476, 1492, 1512, and 1513. The peas
ants were serfs — a condition that had passed away in England,
and largely in France. Their state had been made rapidly
worse by the substitution of the Roman law — a law made largely
for slaves — for the old legal customs, and by the close of the
fifteenth century they were profoundly disaffected.
326 RIVALRIES OF FRANCE AND THE HABSBURGS
Yet if German national life as a whole was thus disordered
and dissatisfied, the larger territories of Germany were growing
stronger, and developing a kind of semi-independent local
national life in themselves. This was notably true of Aus
tria, electoral and ducal Saxony, Bavaria, Brandenburg, and
Hesse. The power of their rulers was increasing, and they were
beginning to exercise a local authority in churchly affairs, con
trolling the nomination of bishops and abbots, taxing the
clergy, and limiting to some extent ecclesiastical jurisdiction.
This local territorial churchmanship had not gone far, but that
it existed was of the utmost importance in giving a framework
which the Reformation was rapidly to develop when Roman
obedience was rejected.
The years preceding the Reformation witnessed two marriages
by the Habsburg rulers of Austria of the utmost importance
for the political background of the Reformation age. In 1477
the death of Charles the Bold, the ambitious duke of Burgundy,
left the heirship of his Burgundian territories and the Nether
lands to his daughter, Mary. Her marriage that year, with
Maximilian I, to the dissatisfaction of Louis XI of France,
who seized upper Burgundy, sowed the seeds of quarrel between
the Kings of France and the Habsburg line which were largely
to determine the politics of Europe till 1756. Philip, the son
of Maximilian and Mary, in turn married Juana, heiress of
Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain. So it came about that
Philip and Juana's son, Charles, became possessor of Austria,
the Netherlands, and the wide-extended Spanish territories in
Europe and the New World — a larger sovereignty than had
been held by a single ruler since Charlemagne — to which the
imperial title was added in 1519. Charles V became heir also
to the rivalry between the Habsburg line to which he belonged
and the Kings of France. That rivalry and the struggle for
religious reform were to interplay throughout the Reformation
age, constantly modifying each other.
SECTION XVI. RENAISSANCE AND OTHER INFLUENCES
NORTH OF THE ALPS
Though the fifteenth century was a notable period of uni
versity foundation in Germany — no less than twelve coming
into existence between 1409 and 1506 — these new creations did
HUMANISM IN GERMANY 327
not owe their existence to the Renaissance. They grew partly
out of a strong desire for learning, but even more from the
ambition of the larger territorial rulers to possess such schools
in their own lands. An influence favorable to the ultimate
triumph of humanism was the revival of the older realistic
mediaeval theology, and a tendency to go back of even the
earlier schoolmen to Augustine, and to Neo-Platonic rather
then Aristotelian conceptions. These revivals were strongly
represented in the University of Paris by the last quarter of
the fifteenth century, and spread thence to German univer
sities with considerable following. They made for many the
bridge to humanism, and they rendered possible that domi
nance of Augustinian conceptions which was to be character
istic of the Reformation age.
The Renaissance beyond the Alps was inaugurated by con
tact with Italian humanists at the Councils of Constance and
Basel, but it did not become a powerful influence till near the
close of the fifteenth century. Its conquests were earlier in
Germany than in France, England, or Spain. Some considera
ble impulse was given by the learned mathematician and phi
losopher, Nicholas of Cues (1401-1464), who collected a nota
ble library. He died a cardinal and bishop of Brixen. Many
of its earlier representatives in Germany were little fitted,
however, to commend it to the serious-minded. German stu
dents brought home from Italy the love of the classics, and
also the loose living too often characteristic of the Italian
Renaissance. Such were men like the vagabond poet, Peter
Luder, who passed from university to university, a disreputable
exponent of the new learning, from 1456 to 1474. A very differ
ent teacher, who had studied in Italy, was Rudolf Agricola
(1443-1485), who closed his life as professor in Heidelberg. A
man of worth and influence, he did much to further classical
education in the fitting schools. Through Agricola's disciple,
Alexander Hegius, who dominated the school in Deventer from
1482 to 1498, that foundation became a centre of classical in
struction, of which Erasmus was to be the most famous pupil.
By the close of the fifteenth century a great improvement in
the teaching of Latin had taken place in the secondary schools
of Germany.
Humanism found footing in the universities, not without
severe struggle. Its earliest conquest was the University of
328 REUCHLIN
Vienna, wliere the semi-pagan Latin poet, Conrad Celtes (1459-
1508), enjoyed the patronage of the humanistically inclined
Emperor, Maximilian I. By the first decade of the sixteenth
century, humanism was pressing into the Universities of Basel,
Tubingen, Ingolstadt, Heidelberg, and Erfurt. It also found
many patrons in the wealthy commercial cities, notably in
Nuremberg, Strassburg, and Augsburg. So numerous were
its sympathizers by the close of the fifteenth century that
learned circles were being formed, like the Rhenish Literary
Association, organized by Celtes in Mainz, in 1491, the mem
bers of which corresponded, circulated each other's works, and
afforded mutual assistance. By 1500 humanism was becoming
a vital factor in Germany.
German humanism presented many types, but was, in gen
eral, far less pagan and more serious-minded than that of Italy.
Many of its leaders were sincere chruchmen, anxious to reform
and purify religious life. It is to be seen at its best in its two
most famous representatives, Reuchlin and Erasmus.
Born in humble circumstances, in Pforzheim, in 1455, Johann
Reuchlin early gained local reputation as a Latinist, and was
sent as companion to the young son of the margrave of Baden
to the University of Paris, about 1472. Here, in Paris, he
began the study of Greek, instruction in which had been offered
there since 1470. In 1477 he received the master's degree in
Basel, and there taught Greek. Even before his graduation he
published a Latin dictionary (1475-1476). He studied law in
Orleans and Poitiers, and in later life was much employed in
judicial positions; but his interests were always primarily
scholarly. The service of the count of Wiirttemberg took him
to Florence and Rome in 1482 — cities which he visited again
in 1490 and 1498. At Florence, even on his first visit, his ac
quaintance with Greek commanded admiration. There he met
and was influenced by the scholars of the Platonic Academy
(ante, p. 315), and from Pico della Mirandola (ante, p. 315) he
acquired that strange interest in Kabalistic doctrines that
added much to his fame in Germany. Reuchlin was regarded
as the ablest Greek scholar of the closing years of the fifteenth
century in Germany, and his influence in promotion of Greek
studies was most fruitful.
Reuchlin had the Renaissance desire to return to the sources,
and this led him, first of non-Jewish scholars in Germany, to
ERASMUS 329
make a profound study of Hebrew that he might the better
understand the Old Testament. The fruit of twenty years of
this labor was the publication in 1506 of a Hebrew grammar
and lexicon — De Rudimentis Hebraicis — which unlocked the
treasures of that speech to Christian students. The bitter
quarrel into which the peace-loving scholar was drawn by
reason of these Hebrew studies, and with him all educated Ger
many, will be described in treating of the immediate antece
dents of the Lutheran revolt. Reuchlin was no Protestant.
He refused approval to the rising Reformation, which he wit
nessed till his death in 1522. But he did a service of immense
importance to Biblical scholarship, and his intellectual heir
was to be his grandnephew, that scholar among the reformers,
Philip Melanchthon.
Desiderius Erasmus was born out of wedlock in Rotterdam,
or Gouda, probably in 1466. The school in Deventer awakened
his love of letters (ante, p. 327). His poverty drove him into
an Augustinian monastery in Steyn, but he had no taste for the
monastic life, nor for that of the priesthood, to which he was
ordained in 1492. By 1495 he wras studying in Paris. The
year 1499 saw him in England, where he made the helpful
friendship of John Colet, who directed him toward the study
of the Bible and the Fathers. A few years of studious labors,
chiefly in France and the Netherlands, saw him once more in
England, in 1505, then followed a three years' sojourn in Italy.
In 1509 he again returned to England, and now taught in the
University of Cambridge, enjoying the friendship of many
of the most distinguished men of the kingdom. The years
1515-1521 were spent for the most part in the service of Charles
V in the Netherlands. From 1521 to his death in 1536 Basel,
where he could have ample facilities for publication, was
his principal home. He may thus be called a citizen of all
Europe.
Erasmus was not an impeccable Latinist. His knowledge of
Greek \vas rather superficial. He was, above all, a man of
letters, who touched the issues of his time with consummate
wit and brilliancy of expression; set forth daring criticism of
clergy and civil rulers, and withal was moved by deep sincerity
of purpose. Convinced that the church of his day was over
laid with superstition, corruption, and error, and that the
monastic life was too often ignorant and unworthy, he had yet
330 ERASMUS
no wish to break with the church that he so freely criticised.
He was too primarily intellectual to have sympathy with the
Lutheran revolution, the excesses of which repelled him. He
was too clear-sighted not to see the evils of the Roman Church.
Hence neither side in the struggle that opened in the latter
part of his life understood him, and his memory has been con
demned by polemic writers, Protestant and Catholic. His
own thought was that education, return to the sources of
Christian truth, and flagellation of ignorance and immorality
by merciless satire would bring the church to purity. To this
end he labored. His Handbook of the Christian Soldier of 1502
was a simple, earnest presentation of an unecclesiastical Chris
tianity, largely Stoic in character. His Praise of Folly of 1509
was a biting satire on the evils of his age in church and state.
His Familiar Colloquies of 1518 were witty discussions in which
fastings, pilgrimages, and similar external observances were
the butts of his brilliant pen. His constructive work was of
the highest importance. In 1516 came the first edition of his
Greek Testament, the pioneer publication of the Greek text,
for that of Ximenes was still inaccessible (ante, p. 324). This
was followed by a series of the Fathers — Jerome, Origen, Basil,
Cyril, Chrysostom, Irenseus, Ambrose, and Augustine, not all
wholly from his pen, but all from his impulse, which placed
scholarly knowledge of early Christianity on a new plane, and
profoundly aided a Reformation, the deeper religious springs
of which Erasmus never understood. Erasmus rendered a ser
vice for the Christian classics, much like that of the Italian
humanists for the pagan writers of Greece and Rome.
Yet Erasmus did something more than revive a knowledge
of Christian sources. In a measure, he had a positive theology.
To him Christianity was but the fullest expression through
Christ, primarily in the Sermon on the Mount, of universal,
essentially ethical religion, of which the philosophers of an
tiquity had also been bearers. He had little feeling for the
sacramental or for the deeply personal elements in religion. A
universal ethical theism, having its highest illustration in
Christ, was his idea. His way of thinking was to have little
influence on the Reformation as a whole, though much on
Socinianism, and is that represented in a great deal of modern
theology, of which he was thus the spiritual ancestor.
Though Germany was more largely influenced by the Re-
THE SERVICE OF HUMANISM 331
naissance at tfye beginning of the sixteenth century than any
other land beyond the Alps, the same impulses were stirring
elsewhere. The efforts of Ximenes in Spain have already been
noted (hnte, p. 324). In England John Colet (1467?-1519)
was introducing educational reforms and lecturing on the epis
tles of Paul in Oxford and London. His influence in turning
Erasmus to Biblical studies was considerable (ante, p. 329).
He rejected all allegorical interpretation of the Scriptures, criti
cised clerical celibacy and auricular confession, and desired
to better the education and morals of the clergy. As the six
teenth century dawned humanism was gaining constantly in
creasing following in England, and King Henry VIII (1509-
1547) was deemed its patron.
The situation in France was similar. The chief representa
tive of a churchly reformatory humanism was Jaques Le Fevre,
of Etaples (1455-1536), most of whose active years were spent
in or near Paris. A modest, kindly little man, of mystical
piety, he published a Latin translation and commentary on
Paul's epistles in 1512, which denied the justifying merits of
good works and held salvation a free gift from God. He never
perceived, however, any fundamental difference between him
self and the Roman Church; but he gathered round himself
a body of devoted pupils, destined to most unlike participa
tion in the Reformation struggle, Guillaume Briconnet, to be
bishop of Meaux; Guillaume Bude, eminent in Greek and to
be instrumental in founding the College de France; Louis de
Berquin, to die a Protestant martyr; and Guillaume Farel, to
be the fiery reformer of French-speaking Switzerland.
To all these religious-minded humanists the path of reform
seemed similar. Sound learning, the study and preaching of
the Bible and the Fathers, and the correction of ignorance,
immorality, and glaring administrative abuses would make
the church what it should be. This solution did not meet the
deep needs of the situation; but the humanists rendered an
indispensable preparation for the Reformation. They led men
to study Christian sources afresh. They discredited the later
scholastic theology. They brought in new and more natural
methods of exegesis. To a large degree they looked on life
from another standpoint than the mediaeval. They repre
sented a release of the mind, in some considerable measure,
from mediaeval traditionalism.
332 PUBLICATION OF THE BIBLE
Partly as a result of the Renaissance emphasis on the sources,
but even more in consequence of the invention of printing, the
latter half of the fifteenth century witnessed a wide distribu
tion of the Bible in the Vulgate and in translation. No less
than ninety-two editions of the Vulgate were put forth before
1500. Eighteen editions of a German version were printed
before 1521. The New Testament was printed in French in
1477; the whole Bible ten years later; 1478 saw the publica
tion of a Spanish translation; 1471 the printing of two inde
pendent versions in Italian. In the Netherlands the Psalms
were seven times published between 1480 and 1507. The
Scriptures were printed in Bohemian in 1488. If England had
no printed Bible before the Reformation, many manuscripts of
Wyclif's translation were in circulation.
Efforts were made to restrict the reading of the Bible by the
laity, since its use seemed the source of mediaeval heresies; but
there can be no doubt that familiarity with it much increased
among the less educated priesthood and among laymen. Yet
the real question of the influence of this Bible reading is the
problem^ of Biblical interpretation. The Middle Ages never
denied the final authority of the Bible. Augustine and Aqui
nas so regarded it. It was the Bible interpreted, however,
by the Fathers, the teachers, and the councils of the church.
Should that churchly right to interpret be denied, there re
mained only the right of private interpretation; but the voices
from Bohemia and the mediaeval sects which denied the inter
preting authority of the church, found no general response as
yet. The commanding word had yet to be spoken. The mere
reading of the Bible involved no denial of mediaeval ideals.
Only when those ideals were rejected could the interpreting
authority which supported them be denied and the Bible be
come the support of the newer conceptions of salvation and of
the church. The Bible was not so much the cause of Protes
tantism as was Protestantism a new interpretation of the
Scriptures.
The closing years of the fifteenth century were, as has been
rfeen, a period of religious betterment in Spain. No such cor
responding revival of interest in religion is to be traced in
France or England; but Germany was undergoing a real and
pervasive religious quickening in the decades immediately pre
ceding the Reformation. Its fundamental motive seems to
UNREST IX GERMANY 333
have been feaiy Much in the popular life of Germany tended
to increase the sense of apprehension. The witchcraft delusion,
though by no means new, was rapidly spreading. A bull of
Pope Innocent VIII in 1484 declared Germany full of witches,
and the German inquisitors, Jakob Sprenger and Heinrich
Kramer, published their painfully celebrated Malleus Malefi-
carum in 1489. It was a superstition that added terror to
popular life, and was to be shared by the reformers no less
than by their Roman opponents. The years from 1490 to
1503 were a period of famine in Germany. The Turkish peril
was becoming threatening. The general social unrest has al
ready been noted (ante, p. 325). All these elements contributed
to the development of a sense of the reality and nearness of
divine judgments, and the need of propitiating an angry God.
Luther's early religious experiences were congenial to the spirit
of this pervasive religious movement.
The religious spirit of Germany at the close of the fifteenth
century found expression in pilgrimages. A few of the more
wealthy journeyed to the Holy Land, more went to Rome,
but the most popular foreign pilgrimage shrine was that of
St. James at Compostella in Spain. German pilgrim shrines
were thronged, and great collections of relics were made, no
tably by the Saxon Elector, Frederick the Wise (1486-1525), to
be Luther's protector, who placed them in the castle church, to
the door of which Luther was to nail his famous Theses. The
intercession of Mary was never more sought, and Mary's
mother, St. Anna, was but little less valued. Christ was popu
larly regarded as a strict judge, to be placated with satisfac
tions or absolutions.
Yet side by side with this external and work-trusting religious
spirit, Germany had not a little of mystic piety, that saw the
essence of religion in the relation of the individual soul to God ;
and a good deal of what has been called "non-ecclesiastical
religion," which showed itself not only in simple, serious lives,
like that of Luther's father, but in increasing attempts of lay
princes to improve the quality of the clergy, of towns to regu
late beggary, to control charitable foundations, which had
been in exclusive ecclesiastical hands, and in various ways to
vindicate for laymen, as such, a larger share in the religious
life of the community. The active life was asserting its claims
against the contemplative. Theology, as such, had largely
334 CONTRASTED TYPES OF RELIGION
lost its hold on popular thought, discredited by nominalism,
despised by humanism, and supplanted by mysticism.
It was no dead age to which Luther was to speak, but one
seething with unrest, vexed with multitudinous unsolved prob
lems and unfulfilled longings.
PERIOD VI. THE REFORMATION
SECTION I. THE LUTHERAN REVOLUTION
THE religious and economic situation of Germany at the
beginning of the sixteenth century was in many respects criti
cal. Papal taxation and papal interference with churchly
appointments were generally deemed oppressive. The expedi
tion of clerical business by the papal curia was deemed expen
sive and corrupt. The clergy at home were much criticised
for the unworthy examples of many of their number in high
station and low. The trading cities were restive under clerical
exemptions from taxation, the prohibition of interest, the many
holidays, and the churchly countenance of beggars. Monas
teries were in many places in sore need of reform, and their
large landed possessions were viewed with ill favor, both by
the nobles who would gladly possess them, and the peasantry
who labored on them. The peasantry in general were in a
state of economic unrest, not the least of their grievances
being the tithes and fees collected by the local clergy. Added
to these causes of restlessness were the intellectual ferment of
rising German humanism and the stirrings of popular religious
awakening, manifested in a deepening sense of terror and con
cern for salvation. It is evident that, could these various
grievances find bold expression in a determined leader, his voice
would find wide hearing.
In the intellectual world of Germany, moreover, division
was being greatly intensified by a quarrel involving one of the
most peace-loving and respected of humanists, Reuchlin (ante,
p. 328), and uniting in his support the advocates of the new
learning. Johann Pfefferkorn (1469-1522), a convert from
Judaism, procured an order from the Emperor, Maximilian,
in 1509, confiscating Jewish books as doing dishonor to Chris
tianity. The archbishop of Mainz, to whom the task of in
quiry was intrusted, consulted Reuchlin and Jakob Hoch-
straten (1460-1527), the Dominican inquisitor in Cologne.
They took opposite sides. Hochstraten supported Pfeffer-
335
336 HUMANISTS AGAINST CONSERVATIVES
korn, while Reuchlin defended Jewish literature as with slight
exceptions desirable, urged a fuller knowledge of Hebrew, and
the substitution of friendly discussion with the Jews for the
confiscation of their books. A storm of controversy was the
result. Reuchlin was accused of heresy and put on trial by
Hochstraten. The case was appealed to Rome, and dragged
till 1520, when it was decided against Reuchlin. The advo
cates of the new learning, however, looked upon the whole
proceeding as an ignorant and unwarranted attack on scholar
ship, and rallied to Reuchlin's support.
From this humanistic circle came, in 1514 and 1517, one of
the most successful satires ever issued — the Letters of Obscure
Men. Purporting to be written by opponents of Reuchlin and
the new learning, they aroused wide-spread ridicule by their
barbarous Latinity, their triviality, and their ignorance, and
undoubtedly created the impression that the party opposed
to Reuchlin was hostile to learning and progress. Their author
ship is still uncertain, but Crotus Rubeanus (1480?-1539?) of
Dornheim and Ulrich von Hutten (1488-1523) certainly had
parts in it. Hutten, vain, immoral, and quarrelsome, but
brilliantly gifted as a writer of prose and verse, and undoubt
edly patriotic, was to give support of dubious worth to Luther
in the early years of the Reformation movement. The effect
of the storm raised over Reuchlin was to unite German human
ists, and to draw a line of cleavage between them and the con
servatives, of whom the Dominicans were the most conspicuous.
It was while this contest was at its height that a protest
against an ecclesiastical abuse, made, in no unusual or spec
tacular fashion, by a monastic professor in a recently founded
and relatively inconspicuous German university, on October
31, 1517, found immediate response and launched the most
gigantic revolution in the history of the Christian Church.
Martin Luther, from whom this protest came, is one of the
few men of whom it may be said that the history of the world
was profoundly altered by his work. Not a great scholar, an
organizer or a politician, he moved men by the power of a
profound religious experience, resulting in unshakable trust in
God, and in direct, immediate and personal relations to Him,
which brought a confident salvation that left no room for the
elaborate hierarchical and sacramental structures of the Middle
Ages. He spoke to his countrymen as one profoundly of them
LUTHER'S EARLY LIFE 337
in aspirations and sympathies, yet above them by virtue of a
vivid and compelling faith, and a courage, physical and spiritual,
of the most heroic mould. Yet so largely was he of his race,
in his virtues and limitations, that he is understood with diffi
culty, to this day, by a Frenchman or an Italian, and even
Anglo-Saxons have seldom appreciated that fulness of sym
pathetic admiration with which a German Protestant speaks
his name. But whether honored or opposed, none can deny
his pre-eminent place in the history of the church.
Luther was born on November 10, 1483, in Eisleben, where
his father was a peasant miner. His father and mother were
of simple, unecclesiastical piety. The father, more energetic
and ambitious than most peasants, removed to Mansfeld a
few months after Martin's birth, where he won respect and a
modest competence, and was fired with ambition to give his
son an education fitting to a career in the law. After prepara
tory schooling in Mansfeld, Magdeburg, and Eisenach, Martin
Luther entered the University of Erfurt in 1501, where he was
known as an earnest, companionable, and music-loving student.
The humanistic movement beginning to be felt in Erfurt had
little influence upon him. His interest was rather in the later,
nominalistic scholastic philosophy, representative of the school
of Occam, though he read fairly widely in the Latin classics.
Luther felt strongly that deep sense of sinfulness which was
the ground note of the religious revival of the age in Germany.
His graduation as master of arts in 1505, made it necessary
then to begin his special preparation in law. He was pro
foundly moved, however, by the sudden death of a friend and
by a narrow escape from lightning, and he therefore broke off
his career, and, in deep anxiety for his soul's salvation, en
tered the monastery of Augustinian hermits in Erfurt, in July,
1505. The "German congregation" of Augustinians, recently
reformed by Andreas Proles (1429-1503), and now under the
supervision of Johann von Staupitz (?-1524), enjoyed deserved
popular respect and represented mediaeval monasticism at its
best. Thoroughly mediaeval, in general, in its theological posi
tion, it made much of preaching, and included some men
who were disposed to mystical piety and sympathetic with
the deeper religious apprehensions of Augustine and Bernard.
To Staupitz, Luther was to owe much. In the monastic life
Luther won speedy recognition. In 1507 he was ordained to
338 LUTHER'S RELIGIOUS DEVELOPMENT
the priesthood. The next year saw him in Wittenberg, at the
command of his superiors, preparing for a future professorship
in the university which had been there established by the
Saxon Elector, Frederick III, "the Wise" (1486-1525), in 1502.
There he graduated bachelor of theology in 1509, but was sent
back the same year to Erfurt, possibly to study for the degree
of sententiarius, or licensed expounder of that great mediaeval
text-book of theology, the "Sentences" of Peter Lombard (ante,
p. 266). On business of his order he made a memorable journey
to Rome, probably in 1510. Back once more in Wittenberg,
which was thenceforth to be his home, he became a doctor of
theology in 1512 and began at once to lecture on the Bible,
treating the Psalms from 1513 to 1515, then Romans till late
in 1516, and thereupon Galatians, Hebrews, and Titus. His
practical abilities were recognized by his appointment, in 1515,
as district vicar in charge of eleven monasteries of his order, and
he began, even earlier, the practice of preaching in which, from
the first, he displayed remarkable gifts. In his order he bore
the repute of a man of singular piety, devotion, and monastic
zeal.
Yet, in spite of all monastic strenuousness, Luther found no
peace of soul. His sense of sinfulness overwhelmed him.
Staupitz helped him by pointing out that true penitence began
not with fear of a punishing God, but with love to God. But
if Luther could say that Staupitz first opened his eyes to the
Gospel, the clarifying of his vision was a slow and gradual proc
ess. Till 1509 Luther devoted himself to the later scholastics,
Occam, d'Ailli, and Biel. To them he owed permanently his
disposition to emphasize the objective facts of revelation, and
his distrust of reason. Augustine, however, was opening new
visions to him by the close of 1509, and leading him to a rapidly
growing hostility toward the dominance of Aristotle in theology.
Augustine's mysticism and emphasis on the salvatory signifi
cance of the human life and death of Christ fascinated him.
Anselm and Bernard helped him. By the time that Luther
lectured on the Psalms (1513-1515), he had become convinced
that salvation is a new relation to God, based not on any work
of merit on man's part, but on absolute trust in the divine
promises, so that the redeemed man, while not ceasing to be
a sinner, yet is freely and fully forgiven, and from the new and
joyous relationship to God in Christ, the new life of willing
JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH 339
conformity to God's will flows. It was a re-emphasis of a most
important side* of the Pauline teaching. Yet it was not wholly
Pauline. To Paul the Christian is primarily a renewed moral
being. ;To Luther he is first of all a forgiven sinner ; but Luther,
like Paul, made salvation in essence a right personal relation
ship to God. The ground and the pledge of this right relation
ship is the mercy of God displayed in the sufferings of Christ
in man's behalf. Christ has borne our sins. We, in turn,
have imputed to us His righteousness. The German mystics,
especially Tauler, now helped Luther to the conclusion that
this transforming trust was not, as he had supposed, a work
in which a man had a part, but wholly the gift of God. The
work preparatory to his lectures on Romans (1515-1516) but
intensified these convictions. He now declared that the com
mon opinion that God would infallibly infuse grace into those
who did what was in their power was absurd and Pelagian.
The basis of any work-righteousness had been overthrown for
Luther.
While thus convinced as to the nature and method of sal
vation, Luther's own peace of soul was not yet secured. He
needed the further conviction of certainty of his own personal
justification. That certainty he had, with Augustine, denied.
Yet as he labored on the latter part of his lectures on Romans,
and even more clearly in the closing months of 1516, his con
fidence that the God-given nature of faith involved personal
assurance became conviction. Thenceforth, in his own per
sonal experience the sum of the Gospel was the forgiveness of
sins. It was "good news," filling the soul with peace, joy, and
absolute trust in God. It was absolute dependence on the di
vine promises, on God's "word."
Luther had not, thus far, consciously worked out a new
system of theology. He had had a deep, vital experience.
It was an experience, however, in no way to be squared with
much of current theories of salvation in which acts, penances,
and satisfactions had a prominent part. No theoretic con
siderations made Luther a reformer. He was driven by the
force of a profound inward experience to test the beliefs and
institutions which he saw about him. The profundity and
nobility of Luther's experience cannot be doubted. Yet its
applicability as a universal test may be questioned. To him
faith was a vital, transforming power, a new and vivifying per-
340 THE NINETY-FIVE THESES
sonal relationship. Many men, however, while sincerely de
sirous of serving God and their generation, have no such sense
of personal forgiveness, no such soul-stirring depth of feeling,
no such childlike trust. They desire, with God's aid, to do
the best they can. For them "justification by faith alone" is
either well-nigh meaningless, or becomes an intellectual assent
to religious truth. To enter into the experience of Luther or
of Paul is by no means possible for all.
By 1516 Luther did not stand alone. In the University of
Wittenberg his opposition to Aristotelianism and Scholasticism
and his Biblical theology found much sympathy. His col
leagues, Andreas Bodenstein of Karlstadt (1480?-1541), who,
unlike Luther, had represented the older Scholasticism of
Aquinas, and Nikolaus von Amsdorf (1483-1565), now became
his hearty supporters.
In 1517 Luther had an opportunity to apply his new con
ception of salvation to a crying abuse. Pope Leo X had de
cided in favor of the claims of Albrecht of Brandenburg to hold
at the same time the archbishopric of Mainz, the archbishopric
of Magdeburg, and the administration of the bishopric of Hal-
berstadt, an argument moving thereto being a large financial
payment. To indemnify himself, Albrecht secured as his share
half the proceeds in his district of the indulgences that the
papacy had been issuing, since 1506, for building that new
church of St. Peter which is still one of the ornaments of Rome.
A commissioner for this collection was Johann Tetzel (1470-
1519), a Dominican monk of eloquence, who, intent on the
largest possible returns, painted the benefits of indulgences
in the crassest terms.1 To Luther, convinced that only a
right personal relation with God would bring salvation, such
teaching seemed destructive of real religion. As Tetzel ap
proached — he was not allowed to enter electoral Saxony-
Luther preached against the abuse of indulgences and, on
October 31, 1517, posted on the door of the castle church, in
Wittenberg, which served as the university bulletin board, his
ever memorable Ninety-five Theses.2
Viewed in themselves, it may well be wondered why the
1 See extracts in Kidd, Documents Illustrative of the Continental Reforma
tion, pp. 12-20.
2 Kidd, pp. 21-26 ; English tr., Wace and Buchheim, Luther's Primary
Works, pp. 6-14. ^
THE CONTROVERSY WIDENS 341
Ninety-five Theses proved the spark which kindled the ex
plosion. They were intended for academic debate. They do
not deny the right of the Pope to grant indulgences. They
question the extension of indulgences to purgatory, and make
evident the abuses of current teaching — abuses which they
imply the Pope will repudiate when informed. Yet though
they are far from expressing the full round of Luther's thought,
certain principles are evident in them which, if developed,
would be revolutionary of the churchly practice of the day.
Repentance is not an act, but a life-long habit of mind. The
true treasury of the church is God's forgiving grace. The
Christian seeks rather than avoids divine discipline. "Every
Christian who feels true compunction has of right plenary re
mission of pain and guilt, even without letters of pardon." In
the restless condition of Germany it was an event of the utmost
significance that a respected, if humble, religious leader had
spoken boldly against a great abuse, and the Theses ran the
length and breadth of the empire.
Luther had not anticipated the excitement. Tetzel answered
at once,1 and stirred Konrad Wimpina (?-1531) to make
reply. A more formidable opponent was the able and disputa
tious Johann Maier of Eck (1486-1543), professor of theology in
the University of Ingolstadt, who answered with a tract circu
lated in manuscript and entitled Obelwci. Luther was charged
with heresy. He defended his position in a sermon on "In
dulgence and Grace" ;2 he replied to Eck. By the beginning
of 1518, complaints against Luther had been lodged in Rome
by Archbishop Albrecht of Mainz and the Dominicans. The
result was that the general of the Augustinians was ordered
to end the dispute and Luther was summoned before the
general chapter of the order met in Heidelberg, in April. There
Luther argued against free will and the control of Aristotle in
theology and won new adherents, of whom one of the most
important was Martin Butzer (Bucer). At about the same
time Luther put forth a more elaborate defense of his position
on indulgences, the Resolutiones.
Luther had desired no quarrel with the papacy. He seems
to have believed that the Pope might see the abuses of indul
gences as he did, but the course of events was leading to no
choice save the sturdy maintenance of his views or submission.
* Kidd, pp. 30, 31. 2 Ibid., p. 29.
342 LUTHER AND CAJETANUS
In June, 1518, Pope Leo X issued a citation to Luther to appear
in Rome, and commissioned his censor of books, the Domini
can Silvestro Mazzolini of Prierio, to draw up an opinion on
Luther's position. The summons and the opinion reached
Luther early in August. Prierio asserted that "the Roman
Church is representatively the college of cardinals, and more
over is virtually the supreme pontiff," and that "He who says
that the Roman Church cannot do what it actually does regard
ing indulgences is a heretic." 1 Luther's case would apparently
have speedily ended in his condemnation had he not had the
powerful protection of his prince, the Elector Frederick, "the
Wise." In how far Frederick sympathized with Luther's relig
ious beliefs at any time is a matter of controversy; but, at all
events he was proud of his Wittenberg professor, and averse to
an almost certain condemnation in Rome. His political skill
effected a change of hearing from the Roman court to the papal
legate at the Reichstag in Augsburg, the learned commentator
on Aquinas, Cardinal Thomas Vio (1469-1534), known from his
birthplace (Gaeta) as Cajetanus. Cajetanus was a theologian
of European repute and seems to have thought the matter
rather beneath his dignity. He ordered Luther to retract,
especially criticisms of the completeness of papal power of in
dulgence. Luther refused,2 and, on October 20, fled from Augs
burg, having appealed to the Pope "to be better informed."3
Not satisfied with this, Luther appealed from Wittenberg, in
November, 1518, to a future general council.4 How little
chance of a favorable hearing he had in Rome is shown by the
bull issued the same month by Leo X defining indulgences in
the sense which Luther had criticised.5 Luther had no real
hope of safety. If his courage was great, his danger was no
less so; but he was rescued from immediate condemnation by
the favorable turn of political events.
Meanwhile the summer of 1518 had seen the installation as
professor of Greek in Wittenberg of a young scholar, a native
of Bretten and grandnephew of Reuchlin, Philip Melanchthon
(1497-1560), who was to be singularly united with Luther in
their after work. Never was there a greater contrast. Me
lanchthon was timid and retiring; but he was without a superior
in scholarship, and under the strong impress of Luther's per-
1 Kidd, pp. 31, 32. 2 Ibid., pp. 33-37. 3 Ibid., pp. 37-39.
« Ibid., p. 40. 6 Ibid., p. 39.
THE LEIPZIG DEBATE 343
sonality, he devoted his remarkable abilities, almost from his
arrival in Wittenberg, to the furtherance of the Lutheran cause.
The Emperor, Maximilian, was now visibly nearing the end
of his life, which was to come in January, 1519, and the
turmoil of a disputed election was impending. Pope Leo X,
as an Italian prince, looked with disfavor on the candidacy
of Charles of Spain, or Francis of France, as increasing foreign
influence in Italy, and sought the good-will of the Elector Fred
erick, whom he would gladly have seen chosen. It was no
time to proceed against Frederick's favored professor. Leo,
therefore, sent his chamberlain, the Saxon Karl von Miltitz, as
his nuncio, with a golden rose, a present expressive of high papal
favor, to the Elector. Miltitz flattered himself that he could
heal the ecclesiastical quarrel and went far beyond his instruc
tions. On his own motion he disowned Tetzel, and held an
interview with Luther, whom he persuaded to agree to keep
silent on the questions in dispute, to submit the case, if possible,
to learned German bishops, and to write a humble letter to the
Pope.1
Any real agreement was impossible. Luther's Wittenberg
colleague, Andreas Bodenstein of Karlstadt (14SO?-1541), had
argued in 1518, in opposition to Eck, that the text of the Bible
is to be preferred even to the authority of the whole church.
Eck demanded a public debate, to which Karlstadt agreed, and
Luther soon found himself drawn into the combat, proposing
to contend that the supremacy of the Roman Church is unsup
ported by history or Scripture. In June and July, 1519, the
great debate was held in Leipzig. Karlstadt, who was an un
ready disputant, succeeded but moderately in holding his own
against the nimble-witted Eck. Luther's earnestness acquitted
itself much better; but Eck's skill drove Luther to the admis
sion that his positions wrere in some respects those of Huss, and
that in condemning Huss the revered Council of Constance
had erred. To Eck this seemed a forensic triumph, and he
believed victory to be his, declaring that one who could deny
the infallibility of a general council was a heathen and a publi
can.2 It was, indeed, a momentous declaration into which
Luther had been led. He had already rejected the final author
ity of the Pope, he now admitted the fallibility of councils.
Those steps implied a break with the whole authoritative
1 Kidd, pp. 41-44. 2 Ibid., pp. 44-51.
344 LUTHER'S GREAT TREATISES
system of the Middle Ages, and allowed final appeal only to
the Scriptures, and to the Scriptures, moreover, interpreted
by the individual judgment. Eck felt that the whole con
troversy might now be speedily ended by a papal bull of con
demnation, which he now set himself to secure and which was
issued on June 15, 1520.1
Luther was now, indeed, in the thick of the battle. His own
ideas were rapidly crystallizing. Humanistic supporters, like
Ulrich von Hutten, were now rallying to him as one who could
lead in a national conflict with Rome. Luther himself was be
ginning to see his task as a national redemption of Germany
from a papacy which, rather than the individual Pope, he was
coming to regard as antichrist. His doctrine of salvation was
bearing larger fruitage. In his little tract, On Good Works,
of May, 1520, after defining "the noblest of all good works" to
be "to believe in Christ," he affirmed the essential goodness
of the normal trades and occupations of life, and denounced
those who "limit good works so narrowly that they must con
sist in praying in church, fasting or giving alms."2 This vin
dication of the natural human life as the best field for the ser
vice of God, rather than the unnatural limitations of asceticism,
was to be one of Luther's most important contributions to
Protestant thought, as well as one of his most significant de
partures from ancient and mediaeval Christian conceptions.
Luther's great accomplishment of the year 1520 and his
completion of his title to leadership were the preparation of
three epoch-making works. The first of these treatises was
published in August, entitled To the Christian Nobility of the Ger
man Nation.3 Written with burning conviction, by a master
of the German tongue, it soon ran the breadth of the empire.
It declared that three Roman walls were overthrown by which
the papacy had buttressed its power. The pretended superi
ority of the spiritual to the temporal estate is baseless, since
all believers are priests. That truth of universal priesthood
casts down the second wall, that of exclusive papal right to
interpret the Scriptures; and the third wall, also, that a re
formatory council can be called by none but the Pope. "A
true, free council" for the reform of the church should be sum-
1 Kidd, pp. 74-79. 2 Robinson, Readings, 2 : 66-68.
3 Translated in full in Wace and Buchheim's, Luther's Primary Works,
pp. 17-92.
LUTHER'S GREAT TREATISES 345
moned by thp temporal authorities. Luther then proceeded
to lay down a programme for reformatory action, his sugges
tions being practical rather than theological. Papal mis-
government, appointments, and taxation are to be curbed;
burdensome offices abolished ; German ecclesiastical interests
should be placed under a "Primate of Germany" ; clerical mar
riage permitted ; the far too numerous holy days reduced in
the interest of industry and sobriety; beggary, including that
of the mendicant orders, forbidden ; brothels closed ; luxury
curbed; and theological education in the universities reformed.
No wonder the effect of Luther's work was profound. He had
voiced what earnest men had long been thinking.
Two months later Luther put forth in Latin his Babylonish
Captivity of the Church,1 in which questions of the highest theo
logical import were handled and the teaching of the Roman
Church unsparingly attacked. The sole value of a sacrament,
Luther taught, is its witness to the divine promise. It seals or
attests the God-given pledge of union with Christ and forgive
ness of sins. It strengthens faith. Tried by the Scripture
standard, there are only two sacraments, baptism and the
Lord's Supper, though penance has a certain sacramental value
as a return to baptism. Monastic vows, pilgrimages, works of
merit, are a man-made substitute for the forgiveness of sins
freely promised to faith in baptism. Luther criticised the denial
of the cup to the laity, doubted transubstantiation, for which
he would substitute a theory of consubstantiation derived from
d'Ailli, and especially rejected the doctrine that the Supper is
a sacrifice to God. The other Roman sacraments, confirma
tion, matrimony, orders, and extreme unction, have no sacra
mental standing in Scripture.
It is one of the marvels of Luther's stormy career that he was
able to compose and issue, contemporaneously with these
intensely polemic treatises, and while the papal bull was being
published in Germany, his third great tractate of 1520, that On
Christian Liberty.2 In calm confidence he presented the para
dox of Christian experience: "A Christian man is the most
free lord of all, and subject to none; a Christian man is the
most dutiful servant of all, and subject to every one." He is
free, since justified by faith, no longer under the law of works
1 Luther's Primary Works, pp. 141-245.
2 Ibid.,, pp. 95-137.
346 LUTHER BURNS THE PAPAL BULL
and in new personal relationship with Christ. He is a servant
because bound by love to bring his life into conformity to the
will of God and to be helpful to his neighbor. In this tract,
in an elsewhere unmatched measure, the power and the limita
tions of Lutheranism are evident. To Luther the essence of
the Gospel is the forgiveness of sins, wrought through a faith,
which, as with Paul, is nothing less than a vital, personal trans
forming relationship of the soul with Christ. It is unquestion
ably the highest of Christian experiences. Its limitation, as
already pointed out, is that this experience, if regarded as the
sole type of true religion, is one beyond the practical attain
ment of many earnest men. To this tract Luther prefaced a
letter to Pope Leo X, which is a most curious document, breath
ing good-will to the Pontiff personally, but full of denunciation
of the papal court and its claims for the papacy, in which the
Pope is represented as "sitting like a lamb in the midst of
wolves." Though Luther's vision was to clarify hereafter
regarding many details, his theological system was thus prac
tically complete in its main outlines by 1520.
Meanwhile Eck and Girolamo Aleander (1480-1542) had
come with the papal bull, as nuncios, to Germany. In Witten
berg its publication was refused, and its reception in large parts
of Germany was lukewarm or hostile, but Aleander secured its
publication in the Netherlands, and procured the burning of
Luther's books in Louvain, Liege, Antwerp, and Cologne. On
December 10, 1520, Luther answered by burning the papal
bull and the canon law, with the approving presence of students
and citizens of Wittenberg, and without opposition from the
civil authorities. It was evident that a considerable section of
Germany was in ecclesiastical rebellion, and the situation de-
manaded the cognizance of the highest authorities of the
empire.
On June 28, 1519, while the Leipzig disputation was in prog
ress, the imperial election had resulted in the choice of Maxi
milian's grandson Charles V (1500-1558). Heir of Spain, the
Netherlands, the Austrian territories of the house of Habs-
burg, master of a considerable portion of Italy, and of newly
discovered territories across the Atlantic, his election as Holy
Roman Emperor made him the head of a territory vaster than
that of any single ruler since Charlemagne. It was an author
ity greatly limited, however, in Germany by the territorial
LUTHER AT WORMS 347
powers of the local princes. As yet Charles was young and
unknown, and both sides in the religious struggles of the day
had strong hope of his support. In reality he was an earnest
Roman "Catholic, of the type of his grandmother, Isabella of
Castile, sharing her reformatory views, desirous of improve
ment in clerical morals, education, and administration, but
wholly unsympathetic with any departure from the doctrinal or
hierarchical system of the Middle Ages. He had at last come
to Germany, and partly to regulate his government in that
land, partly to prepare for the war about to break out over the
rival claims of France and Spain in Italy, had called a Reichs
tag to meet in Worms in November, 1520. Though there was
much other business, all felt the determination of Luther's case
of high importance. The papal nuncio, Aleander, pressed for
a prompt condemnation, especially after the final papal bull
against Luther was issued on January 2, 1521. Since Luther
was already condemned by the Pope, the Reichstag had no
duty, Aleander urged, but to make that condemnation effective.
On the other hand, Luther had wide popular support, and his
ruler, the Elector Frederick the Wise, a master of diplomatic in
trigue, was, fortunately for Luther, of the opinion that the con
demned monk had never had an adequate trial. Frederick, and
other nobles, believed that he should be heard before the Reichs
tag previous to action by that body. Between the two coun
sels the Emperor wavered, convinced that Luther was a damna
ble heretic, but politician enough not to oppose German senti
ment too sharply, or to throw away the possible advantage of
making the heretic's fate a lever in bringing the Pope to the
imperial side in the struggle with France.
The result was that Luther was summoned to Worms un
der the protection of an imperial safe-conduct. His journey
thither from Wittenberg was well-nigh a popular ovation. On
April 17, 1521, Luther appeared before the Emperor and Reichs
tag. A row of his books was pointed out to him and he was
asked whether he would recant them or not. Luther requested
time for reflection. A day was given him, and on the next
afternoon he was once more before the assembly. Here he
acknowledged that, in the heat of controversy, he had expressed
himself too strongly against persons, but the substance of
what he had written he could not retract, unless convinced of
its wrongfulness by Scripture or adequate argument. The
348 LUTHER AT WORMS
Emperor, who could hardly believe that such temerity as to
deny the infallibility of a general council was possible, cut the
discussion short. That Luther cried out, "I cannot do other
wise. Here I stand. God help me, Amen," is not certain,
but seems not improbable. The words at least expressed the
substance of his unshaken determination. He had borne a
great historic witness to the truth of his convictions before the
highest tribunal of his nation. Of his dauntless courage he
had given the completest proof. The judgment of his hearers
was divided, but if he alienated the Emperor and the prelates
by his strong and, as it seemed to them, self-willed assertion,
he made a favorable impression on many of the German no
bility and, fortunately, on the Elector Frederick. That prince,
though he thought Luther too bold, was confirmed in his de
termination that no harm should come to the reformer. Yet
the result seemed a defeat for Luther. A month after Luther
had started on his homeward journey he was formally put under
the ban of the empire, though not till after many of the mem
bers of the Reichstag had left. He was to be seized for pun
ishment and his books burned.1 This ban was never formally
abrogated, and Luther remained the rest of his life under im
perial condemnation.
Had Germany been controlled by a strong central authority
Luther's career would soon have ended in martyrdom. Not
even an imperial edict, however, could be executed against the
will of a vigorous territorial ruler, and Frederick the Wise
proved once more Luther's salvation. Unwilling to come out
openly as his defender, perhaps somewhat afraid to do so, he
had Luther seized by friendly hands, as the reformer journeyed
homeward from Worms, and carried secretly to the Wartburg
Castle, near Eisenach. For months Luther's hiding-place was
practically unknown; but that he lived and shared in the for
tunes of the struggle his ready pen made speedily apparent.
His attacks on the Roman practice grew more intense, but the
most lasting fruit of this period of enforced retirement was his
translation of the New Testament, begun in December, 1521,
and published in September of the following year. Luther
was by no means the first to translate the Scriptures into Ger
man, but the earlier versions had been made from the Vulgate,
and were hard and awkward in expression. Luther's work
1 Kidd, Documents, pp. 79-89.
LUTHER TRANSLATES THE NEW TESTAMENT 349
was not mereljj from the Greek, for which the labors of Eras
mus gave the basis, it was idiomatic and readable. It largely
determined the form of speech that should mark future German
literature — that of the Saxon chancery of the time — wrought
and polished by a master of popular expression. Eew services
greater than this translation have ever been rendered to the
development of the religious life of a nation. Nor, with all
his deference to the Word of God, was Luther without his own
canons of criticism. These were the relative clearness with
which his interpretation of the work of Christ and the method
of salvation by faith is taught. Judged by these standards, he
felt that Hebrews, James, Jude, and Revelation were of inferior
worth. Even in Scripture itself there were differences in value.
The month which saw the beginning of Luther's work as a
translator — December, 1521 — witnessed the publication in
Wittenberg of a small volume by Melanchthon, the Loci Com
munes, meaning Cardinal Points of Theology. With it the
systematic presentation of Lutheran theology may be said to
have begun.1 It was to be enlarged, developed, arid modified
in many later editions.
SECTION II. SEPARATIONS AND DIVISIONS
Luther's sojourn in the Wartburg left Wittenberg without his
powerful leadership; but there were not wanting many there
to continue the ecclesiastical revolution. To his earlier asso
ciates in the university, Karlstadt, Melanchthon, and Nikolaus
von Amsdorf (1483-1565), there had been added, in the first
half of the year 1521, Johann Bugenhagen (1485-1558) and
Justus Jonas (1493-1555). Of these, Karlstadt had unques
tionably greatest natural leadership, but was rash, impulsive,
and radical. Luther had as yet made no changes in public
worship or in monastic life. Yet it was inevitable that demand
for such changes should come. Luther's fiery fellow monk,
Gabriel Zwilling (1487?-! 558), by October, 1521, was de
nouncing the mass and urging the abandonment of clerical vows.
He soon had a large following, especially in the Augustinian
monastery of Wittenberg, many of the inmates of which now
renounced their profession. With equal zeal Zwilling was soon
attacking images. At Christmas, 1521, Karlstadt celebrated
1 Extracts in Kidd, Documents, pp. 90-94.
350 RADICALISM. LUTHER'S CONSERVATISM
the Lord's Supper in the castle church, without priestly garb,
sacrificial offering, elevation of the host, and with the cup
offered to the laity. Auricular confession and fasts were aban
doned. Karlstadt taught that all ministers should marry, and,
in January, 1522, took to himself a wife. He was soon oppos
ing the use of pictures, organs, and the Gregorian chanting in
public worship. Under his leadership the Wittenberg city
government broke up the ancient religious fraternities and
confiscated their property, decreed that the services should be
in German, condemned pictures in the churches, and forbad
beggary, ordering that really needy cases be aided from the
city treasury. The public commotion was augmented by the
arrival, on December 27, 1521, of three radical preachers from
Zwickau, chief of whom were Nikolaus Storch and Markus
Thoma Stiibner. These men claimed immediate divine in
spiration, opposed infant baptism, and prophesied the speedy
end of the world. Melanchthon was somewhat shaken by
them at first, though their influence in general has been exag
gerated. They undoubtedly added something to a state of
turmoil.1
These rapid changes, followed by a popular attack on images,
were highly displeasing to Elector Frederick the Wise, and they
drew forth the warning protests of German princes and the im
perial authorities. Though Luther was to further, within the
next three or four years, most of the changes which Karlstadt
and Zwilling had made, he now felt that his cause was in peril
through a dangerous radicalism. The city government ap
pealed to Luther to return. The Elector nominally forbad
him, out of political considerations, but on March 6, 1522,
Luther was once more in Wittenberg, which thenceforth was
to be his home. Eight days of preaching showed his power.
The Gospel, he declared, consisted in the knowledge of sin, in
forgiveness through Christ, and in love to one's neighbor.
The alterations, which had raised the turmoil, had to do with
externals. They should be effected only in a spirit of consid
eration of the weak. Luther was master of the situation.
Karlstadt lost all influence and had to leave the city. Many
of the changes were, for the moment, undone, and the old
order of worship largely re-established. Luther thus showed
a decidedly conservative attitude. He opposed not merely
1 Kidd, pp. 94-104.
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SPREAD OF THE REVOLUTION 351
the Romanists, fas heretofore, but those of the revolution who
would move, as he believed, too rapidly. The separations in
the reform party itself had begun. Yet there can be no doubt
as to Luther's wisdom. His action caused many of the German
rulers to look upon him with kindliness, as one who, though
condemned at Worms, was really a force for order in troublous
times, and continued especially that favor of his Elector with
out which his cause would even now have made speedy ship
wreck.
Meanwhile the Emperor's hands were tied by the great war
with France for the control of Italy, which was to keep him
absent from Germany from 1522 to 1530. Effective interfer
ence on his part with the Reformation was impossible. Pope
Leo X had closed his splendor-loving reign in December, 1521,
and had been succeeded by Charles V's old Netherlandish
tutor as Adrian VI — a man of strict mediaeval orthodoxy, but
fully conscious of the need of moral and administrative reform
in the papal court, whose brief papacy of twenty months was
to be a painfully fruitless effort to check the evils for which
he believed Luther's heretical movement to be a divine pun
ishment. Sympathy with Luther was rapidly spreading, not
merely throughout Saxony, but in the cities of Germany. To
the Reichstag, which met in Nuremberg in November, 1522,
Adrian now sent, demanding the enforcement of the edict of
Worms against Luther, while admitting that much was amiss
in ecclesiastical administration. The Reichstag replied by de
claring the edict impossible of enforcement, and by demand
ing a council for churchly reform, to meet within a year in
Germany, while, pending its assembly, only the "true, pure,
genuine, holy Gospel" was to be preached. The old complaints
against papal misgovernment were renewed by the Reichstag.
Though not in form, it was in reality a victory for Luther and
his cause. It looked as if the Reformation might gain the sup
port of the whole German nation.1
Under these favorable circumstances Evangelical congrega
tions were rapidly forming in many regions of Germany, as yet
without any fixed constitution or order of service. Luther now
was convinced that such associations of believers had full
power to appoint and depose their pastors. He held, also,
however, that the temporal rulers, as in the positions of chief
1 Kidd, pp. 105-121.
352 CHANGES IN PUBLIC WORSHIP
power and responsibility in the Christian community, had a
prime duty to further the Gospel. The experiences of the
immediate future, and the necessities of actual church organ
ization within extensive territories, were to turn Luther from
whatever sympathy he now had with this free-churchism to a
strict dependence on the state. To meet the demands of the
new Evangelical worship, Luther issued, in 1523, his Ordering of
Worship, in which he emphasized the central place of preach
ing; his Formula of the Mass, in which, though still using Latin,
he did away with its sacrificial implications, recommended the
cup for lay usage, and urged the employment of popular hymns
by the worshippers; and his Taufbuchlein, in which he presented
a baptismal service in German. The abandonment of private
masses and masses for the dead, with their attendant fees,
raised a serious problem of ministerial support, which Luther
proposed to solve by salaries from a common chest maintained
by the municipality. Luther held that great freedom was per
missible in details of worship, as long as the "Word of God"
was kept central. The various reformed congregations, there
fore, soon exhibited considerable variety, and the tendency to
the use of German rapidly increased, Luther himself issuing a
German Mass in 1526. Confession Luther regarded as exceed
ingly desirable as preparing the undeveloped Christian for the
Lord's Supper, but not as obligatory. Judged by the develop
ment of the Reformation elsewhere, Luther's attitude in mat
ters of worship was strongly conservative, his principle being
that "what is not contrary to Scripture is for Scripture and
Scripture for it." He therefore retained much of Roman usage,
such as the use of candles, the crucifix, and the illustrative
employment of pictures.1
Thus far the tide had been running strongly in directions
favorable to Luther, but with the years 1524 and 1525 separa
tions began, the effects of which were to limit the Reformation
movement, to make Luther a party rather than a national
leader, to divide Germany, and to throw Luther into the arms
of the temporal princes. The first of these separations was
from the humanists. Their admired leader, Erasmus, had lit
tle sympathy with Luther's doctrine of justification by faith
alone. To his thinking reform would come by education, the
rejection of superstition and a return to the "sources" of
i Kidd, 121-133.
SEPARATIONS IN THE REFORM FORCES 353
Christian truth. The stormy writings of Luther and the popu
lar tumult were becoming increasingly odious to him. In com
mon with humanists generally, he was alarmed by the great
decline in attendance on the German universities, which set
in universally with the rise of the religious controversy, and
the fading of interest in purely scholarly questions. Though
frequently urged, he was long reluctant to attack Luther, how
ever; but at last, in the autumn of 1524, he challenged Luther's
denial of free will. To Erasmus Luther replied, a year later,
with the stiffest possible assertion of determinism and predes
tination, though Melanchthon was soon to move in the oppo
site direction. The breach between Luther and Erasmus was
incurable. Most of the humanists deserted Luther, though
among the disciples of Melanchthon a younger school of Lu
theran humanists slowly developed.1
To some in Germany Luther seemed but a half-way reformer.
Such a radical was his old associate Karlstadt, who, having lost
all standing in Wittenberg, went on to yet more radical views
and practices and, securing a large following in Orlamiinde,
practically defied Luther and the Saxon government. He
denied the value of education, dressed and lived like the peas
antry, destroyed images, and rejected the physical presence
of Christ in the Supper. Even more radical was Thomas
Miinzer, who asserted immediate revelation and attacked
Romanists and Lutherans alike for their dependence on the
letter of the Scripture. A man of action, he led in riotous at
tacks on monasteries, and preached battle against the "god
less." These and men like them Luther strongly opposed,
naming them Schwarmer, i. e., fanatics; but their presence in
dicated a growing rift in the forces of reform.
Yet more serious was a third separation — that caused by
the peasants' revolt. The state of the German peasantry had
long been one of increasing misery and consequent unrest,
especially in southwestern Germany, where the example of
better conditions in neighboring Switzerland fed the discon
tent. With the peasant revolt Lutheranism had little directly
to do. Its strongest manifestations were in regions into which
the reform movement had but slightly penetrated. Yet the
religious excitement and radical popular preaching were un
doubtedly contributing, though not primary, causes. Begun
1 Kidd, pp. 171-174.
354 THE PEASANTS' WAR
in extreme southwestern Germany in May and June, 1524, the
insurrection was exceedingly formidable by the spring of the
following year. In March, 1525, the peasants put forth twelve
articles,1 demanding the right of each community to choose
and depose its pastor, that the great tithes (on grain) be used
for the support of the pastor and other community expenses,
and the small tithes abolished, that serfdom be done away,
reservations for hunting restricted, the use of the forests al
lowed to the poor, forced labor be regulated and duly paid,
just rents fixed, new laws no longer enacted, common lands re
stored to communities from which they had been taken, and
payments for inheritance to their masters abolished. To
modern thinking these were moderate and reasonable requests.
To that age they seemed revolutionary.
Other groups of peasants, one of which had Thomas Munzer
as a leader, were far more radical. Luther at first attempted
to mediate, and was disposed to find wrong on both sides ; but
as the ill-led rising fell into greater excesses he turned on the
peasants with his savage pamphlet, Against the Murderous and
Thieving Rabble of the Peasants, demanding that the princes
crush them with the sword. The great defeat of Francis I of
France, near Pavia by the imperial army on February 24, 1525,
had enabled the princes of Germany to master the rising. The
peasant insurrection was stamped out in frightful bloodshed.
Of the separations, that occasioned by the peasants' war was
undoubtedly the most disastrous. Luther felt that his Gospel
could not be involved in the social and economic demands of
the disorderly peasants. But the cost was great. Popular
sympathy for his cause among the lower orders of southern
Germany was largely forfeited, his own distrust of the common
man was augmented, his feeling that the reform must be the
work of the temporal princes greatly strengthened. His oppo
nents, moreover, pointed to these risings as the natural fruitage
of rebellion against the ancient church.
Meanwhile the mediaeval, though in his way reformatory,
Adrian VI had died, and had been succeeded in the papacy, in
November, 1523, by Giulio de' Medici as Clement VII (1523-
1534) — a man of respectable character but with little sense of
the importance of religious questions, and primarily in policy
an Italian worldly prince. To the new Reichstag assembled in
1 Kidd, pp. 174-179.
ROMAN OPPOSITION ORGANIZED 355
Nuremberg in the spring of 1524, Clement sent as his legate the
skilful cardinal, Lorenzo Campeggio (1474-1539). With the
Reichstag Campeggio could effect little. It promised to enforce
the Edict of Worms against Luther uas far as possible," and
demanded a "general assembly of the German nation'1 to meet
in Speier, in the following autumn. This gathering the absent
Emperor succeeded in frustrating. Campeggio's real success
was, however, outside the Reichstag. Through his efforts a
league to support the Roman cause was formed in Regensburg,
on July 7, 1524, embracing the Emperor's brother, Ferdinand,
the dukes of Bavaria, and a number of south German bishops.
A fifth of the ecclesiastical revenues was assigned to the lay
princes, regulations to secure a more worthy clergy enacted,
clerical fees lightened, the number of saints' days to be observed
as holidays diminished, and preaching to be in accordance with
the Fathers of the ancient church rather than the schoolmen.1
It was the beginning of a real Counter-Reformation ; but its
effect was to increase the separation of parties in Germany, and
to strengthen the line of demarcation on the basis of the pos
sessions of rival territorial princes. The nation was in hope
less division.
While Rome was thus strengthened in southern Germany
Luther's cause received important accessions. Chief of these
was the adhesion, in 1524, of the far-sighted landgrave Philip
of Hesse (1518-1567), the ablest politician among the Lutheran
princes. At the same time Albert of Prussia, grand master of
the Teutonic Knights, George of Brandenburg, Henry of Meck
lenburg, and Albert of Mansfeld were showing a decided in
terest in the Evangelical cause. The important cities, Magde
burg, Nuremberg, Strassburg, Augsburg, Esslingen, Ulm, and
others of less moment had also been won by 1524.
It was in the dark days of the peasant revolt that Luther's
cautious protector, Frederick the Wise, died (May 5, 1525),
and was succeeded by his brother John "the Steadfast" (1525-
1532). The change was favorable to Luther, for the new Elector
was a declared and active Lutheran. In these months falls,
also, Luther's marriage to Katherine von Bora (1499-1552),
on June 13, 1525, a union which was to manifest some of the
most winsome traits of the reformer's character. The marriage
was rather suddenly arranged, and the charge sometimes made
1 Kidd, pp. 133-151.
356 POLITICS AIDS THE REFORMERS
that desire for matrimony had any share in Luther's revolt
from Rome is palpably absurd ; but, though this repudiation
of clerical celibacy was undoubtedly favorable in its ultimate
results, it was, at the time, an added cause of division, and the
union of an ex-monk and a former nun seemed to give point
to the bitter jibe of Erasmus that the Reformation, which had
appeared a tragedy, was really a comedy, the end of which was
a wedding.1
The suppression of the peasant revolt had left the princes
and the cities the real ruling forces in Germany, and political
combinations were now formed for or against the Reformation.
Such a league of Catholics was instituted by Duke George
of Saxony and other Catholic princes met in Dessau in July,
1525 ; and as a reply Philip of Hesse and the new Elector John of
Saxony organized a Lutheran league in Torgau. The great
imperial victory of Pa via in the previous February had resulted
in the captivity of the defeated King of France, Francis I.
The war had gone decisively in favor of the Emperor, and its
results seemed to be garnered by the Treaty of Madrid of
January, 1526, by which Francis gained his release. Both
monarchs pledged themselves to combined efforts to put down
heresy.2 The prospects of Lutheranism were indeed dark.
From this peril the Lutheran cause owed its rescue primarily
to the Pope. Clement VII, always more an Italian prince
than a churchman, was thoroughly alarmed at the increase of
imperial power in Italy. He formed an Italian league against
the Emperor, which was joined by the French King in May,
1526. Francis I repudiated the Treaty of Madrid, and now
the League of Cognac ranged France, the Pope, Florence, and
Venice against the Emperor. The results of Pavia seemed
lost. The war must be fought over again. The Emperor's
hands were too full to interfere in the religious struggles of
Germany.3
So it came about that when the new Reichstag met in Speier
in the summer of 1526, though the imperial instructions for
bad alterations in religion and ordered the execution of the
Edict of Worms, the Lutherans were able to urge that the
situation had changed from that contemplated by the Emperor
when his commands were issued from Spain. The terrifying ad
vance of the Turks, which was to result in the Hungarian disas-
1 Kidd, pp. 179, 180. 2 Ibid., p. 180. 3Ibid., p. 182.
TERRITORIAL CHURCHES ORGANIZED 357
ter of Mohacz «>n August 29, 1526, also counselled military unity.
The Reichstag, therefore, enacted that, pending a " council
or a national assembly," each of the territorial rulers of the
empire is "so to live, govern, and carry himself as he hopes
and trusts to answer it to God and his imperial majesty."
This was doubtless a mere ad interim compromise ; but the
Lutheran princes and cities speedily interpreted it as full legal
authorization to order their ecclesiastical constitutions as they
saw fit. Under its shelter the organization of Lutheran terri
torial churches was now rapidly accomplished. Some steps
had been taken toward such territorial organization even be
fore the Reichstag of 1526. Beyond the borders of the empire
Albert of Brandenburg (1511-1568), the grand master of ^the
Teutonic Knights in East Prussia, transformed his office into
a hereditary dukedom under the overlord ship of Poland, in
1525, and vigorously furthered the Lutheranization of the land.2
In electoral Saxony itself, Elector John was planning a more
active governmental control of ecclesiastical affairs, and
Luther had issued his German Mass and Order of Divine Service,
of 1526, before the Reichstag.3 The decree of the Reichstag
now greatly strengthened these tendencies. In Hesse, Land
grave Philip caused a synod to be held in Homberg, in October,
1526, where a constitution was adopted largely through the
influence of Francis Lambert (1487-1530), a pupil of Luther.
In each community the faithful communicants were to con
stitute the governing body by which pastor should be chosen
and discipline administered. Representatives from these local
bodies, a pastor and a lay brother from each, should constitute
an annual synod for all Hesse, of which the landgrave and high
nobles should also be members.4 Here was an organization
proposed which was consonant, in large measure, with Luther's
earlier views. But Luther had changed. He had come to
distrust the common man, and on his advice the landgrave
rejected the proposals and adopted instead the procedure of
electoral Saxony.
In Saxony, which became the norm in a general way for the
creation of territorial churches, "visitors" were appointed by
the Elector to inquire into clerical doctrine and conduct on
the basis of articles drawn up by Melanchthon in 1527, and
1 Kidd, pp. 183-185. 2 Ibid., pp. 185-193.
3 Ibid., pp. 193-202. 4 Ibid., pp. 222-230.
358 TERRITORIAL CHURCHES
enlarged the following year.1 The old jurisdiction of bishops,
was cast off, the land was divided into districts, each under a
"superintendent" with administrative, but not spiritual,
superiority over the parish minister, and in turn responsible
to the Elector. Unworthy or recalcitrant clergy were driven
out, similarity of worship secured, and monastic property, altar
endowment and similar foundations confiscated, in part for
the benefit of parish churches and schools, but largely for that
of the electoral treasury. In a word, a Lutheran state church,
coterminous with the electoral territories, and having all bap
tized inhabitants as its members, was substituted for the old
bishop-ruled church. Other territories of Evangelical Germany
were similarly organized. To aid in popular religious instruc
tion, which the confusion of a decade had reduced to a de
plorable condition, Luther prepared two catechisms in 1529,
of which the Short Catechism is one of the noblest monuments
of the Reformation.2
That this development of territorial churches could take
place was due to favoring political conditions. The Emperor
had a tremendous war to wage with domination in Italy as its
prize. His brother, Ferdinand, was crowned King of Hun
gary on November 3, 1527, and thenceforth was in struggle
with the Turks. Effective interference in Germany was im
possible. But fortune favored the Emperor. On May 6, 1527,
an imperial army containing many German Lutheran recruits,
captured Rome, shut up Pope Clement VII in the castle of
San Angelo, and subjected the city to every barbarity. Though
fortune seemed to turn toward the French in the early part of
1528, before the end of that year the imperial forces had as
serted their mastery. The Pope was compelled to make his
peace with the Emperor, at Barcelona, on June 29, 1529,3
and France gave up the struggle by the Peace of Cambrai, on
the 5th of the following August. The great war which had
raged since 1521 was over, and Charles V could now turn his
attention to the suppression of the Lutheran revolt. Nor had
the Lutheran leaders been wholly fortunate. Deceived by a
forgery by Otto von Pack, an official of ducal Saxony, the Land
grave Philip of Hesse and the Elector John of Saxony had
been convinced that the Catholics intended to attack them.
Philip determined to anticipate the alleged plot, and was arm-
1 Kidd, pp. 202-205. 2 Ibid., pp. 205-222. 3 Ibid., p. 246.
"PROTESTANTS'' 359
ing for that purpose in 1528, when the forgery was discovered.
The effect of the incident was to embitter the relations of the
two great ecclesiastical parties.
Under these circumstances it was inevitable that when the
next Reichstag met in Speier, in February, 1529, the Catholic
majority should be strongly hostile to the Lutheran innovators.
That Reichstag now ordered, by a majority decision, that no
further ecclesiastical changes should be made, that Roman
worship should be permitted in Lutheran lands, and that all
Roman authorities and orders should be allowed full enjoy
ment of their former rights, property, and incomes. This
would have been the practical abolition of the Lutheran terri
torial churches. Unable to defeat this legislation, the Lutheran
civil powers represented in the Reichstag, on April 19, 1529,
entered a formal protest of great historic importance since it
led to the designation of the party as "Protestant." It was
supported by John of electoral Saxony, Philip of Hesse, Ernst
of Liineburg, George of Brandenburg-Ansbach, Wolfgang of
Anhalt, and the cities Strassburg, Ulm, Constance, Nuremberg,
Lindau, Kempten, Memmingen, Nordlingen, Heilbronn, Isny,
St. Gallen, Reutlingen, Weissenburg, and Windsheim.1
The Protestant prospects were dark, and the situation de
manded a defensive union, which Philip of Hesse undertook to
secure. At this critical juncture the Reformation cause was
threatened by division between the reformers of Saxony and
Switzerland, and by the rapid spread of the Anabaptists.
SECTION III. THE SWISS REVOLT
Switzerland, though nominally a part of the empire, had long
been practically independent. Its thirteen cantons were united
in a loose confederacy, each being practically a self-governing
republic. The land, as a whole, was deemed the freest in
Europe. Its sons were in great repute as soldiers and were
eagerly sought as mercenaries, particularly by the Kings of
France and the Popes. Though the general status of education
was low, humanism had penetrated the larger towns, and in
the early decades of the sixteenth century had notably its
home in Basel. The Swiss reformation was to have its sources
in humanism, in local self-government, in hatred of ecclesi-
i Kidd, pp. 239-245.
360 ZWINGLI'S DEVELOPMENT
astical restraint, and in resistance to monastic exactions, espe
cially where the monasteries were large landowners.
Huldreich Zwingli, chief of the reformers of German-speaking
Switzerland, was born on January 1, 1484, in Wildhaus, where
his father was the bailiff of the village and in comfortable cir
cumstances. An uncle, the dean of Wesen, started him on
the road to an education, which was continued in Basel, and
then in Bern under the humanist Heinrich Wolflin (Lupulus),
from 1498 to 1500. For two years Zwingli was a student in
the University of Vienna, where Conrad Celtes had great fame
in the classics. From 1502 to 1506 he continued his studies
in the University of Basel, graduating as bachelor of arts in
1504, and receiving the master's degree two years later. At
Basel he enjoyed the instruction of the humanist Thomas
Wyttenbach (1472-1526), whom he gratefully remembered as
having taught him the sole authority of Scripture, the death of
Christ as the only price of forgiveness, and the worthlessness
of indulgences. Under such teaching Zwingli became naturally
a humanist himself, eager to go back to the earlier sources of
Christian belief, and critical of what the humanists generally
deemed superstition. He never passed through the deep spiri
tual experience of sin and forgiveness that came to Luther.
His religious attitude was always more intellectual and radical
than that of the Saxon reformer.
The year of Zwingli's second graduation saw his appoint
ment, apparently through the influence of his clerical uncle, as
parish priest in Glarus. Here he studied Greek, became an in
fluential preacher, opposed the employment of Swiss as mer
cenaries, save by the Pope, and in 1513 received a pension from
the Pope, anxious to secure the continued military support of
the Swiss. He accompanied the young men of his parish as
chaplain in several Italian campaigns. He corresponded with
Erasmus and other humanists. His knowledge of the world
was increasing, and he touched life on many sides.1
Zwingli was patriotically convinced of the moral evil of mer
cenary service, but the French, eager to enlist Swiss soldiers,
made so much trouble in his Glarus parish that, without re
signing the post, he transferred his activities in 1516 to the
still-famous pilgrim shrine of Einsiedeln. The change brought
him enlarged reputation as a preacher and a student. To this
1 Kidd, pp. 374-380.
ZWIXGLI IN ZURICH 361
Einsiedeln sojourn Zwingli, always jealous of admitting indebt
edness to Luther, later ascribed his acceptance of the Evan
gelical position. The evidence that has survived points, how
ever, to little then beyond the more advanced humanistic at
titude. His own life at this time was, moreover, not free from
reproach for breach of the vow of chastity.
His opposition to foreign military service and reputation as
a preacher and scholar led to Zwingli's election by the Minster
chapter in Zurich as people's priest, an office on which he en
tered with the commencement of 1519. He began at once the
orderly exposition of whole books of the Bible, commencing
with Matthew's Gospel. He now became acquainted with
Luther's writings. He was brought near to death by the
plague. He preached faithfully against mercenary soldiering,
so that Zurich ultimately (May, 1521) forbad the practice.1
His own spiritual life deepened, through bereavement by the
death of a beloved brother in 1520, and the same year he re
signed his papal pension.
Though Zwingli had thus long been moving in the reform
atory direction, it was with 1522 that his vigorous reformatory
work began. It is interesting to note that the question first
at issue did not grow, as with Luther, out of a profound re
ligious experience, but out of the conviction that only the Bible
is binding on Christians. Certain of the citizens broke the
lenten fast, citing Zwingli's assertion of the sole authority of
Scripture in justification. Zwingli now preached and published
in their defense. The bishop of Constance, in whose diocese
Zurich lay, now sent a commission to repress the innovation.
The cantonal civil government ruled that the New Testament
imposed no fasts, but that the}' should be observed for the
sake of good order. The importance of this compromise deci
sion was that the cantonal civil authorities practically rejected
the jurisdiction of the bishop and took the control of the
Zurich churches into their own hands. In the August follow
ing the Zurich burgomaster laid down the rule that the pure
Word of God was alone to be preached, and the road to revo
lution was thus fully open.2
Zwingli believed that the ultimate authority was the Chris
tian community, and that the exercise of that authority was
through the duly constituted organs of civil government acting
1 Kidd, pp. 384-387. 2 Ibid., pp. 387-408.
362 THE REFORMATION IN ZURICH
in accordance with the Scriptures. Only that which the Bible
commands, or for which distinct authorization can be found
in its pages, is binding or allowable. Hence his attitude toward
the ceremonies and order of the older worship was much more
radical than that of Luther. Really the situation in Zurich
was one in which the cantonal government introduced the
changes which Zwingli, as a trusted interpreter of Scripture
and a natural popular leader, persuaded that government to
sanction. Zwingli now began a process of governmental and
popular education, which he employed with great success.
Persuaded by Zwingli, the cantonal government ordered a
public discussion, in January, 1523, in which the Bible only
should be the touchstone. For this debate Zwingli prepared
sixty-seven brief articles, affirming that the Gospel derives no
authority from the church, that salvation is by faith, and
denying the sacrificial character of the mass, the salvatory
character of good works, the value of saintly intercessors, the
binding character of monastic vows, or the existence of pur
gatory. He also declared Christ to be the sole head of the
church, and advocated clerical marriage. In the resulting
debate the government declared Zwingli the victor, in that it
affirmed that he had not been convicted of heresy, and directed
that he should continue his preaching. It was an indorsement
of his teaching.1
Changes now went rapidly. Priests and nuns married.
Fees for baptisms and burials were done away. In a second
great debate, in October, 1523, Zwingli and his associate min
ister, Leo Jud (1482-1542), attacked the use of images and the
sacrificial character of the mass. The government was with
them, but moved cautiously.2 January, 1524, saw a third
great debate. The upholders of the old order were given
choice of conformity or banishment. In June and July, 1524,
images, relics, and organs were done away. December wit
nessed the confiscation of the monastic establishments, their
property being wisely used, in large part, in the establishment
of excellent schools. The mass continued till Holy Week of
1525, when it too was abolished. The transformation was
complete. Episcopal jurisdiction had been thrown off, the
services put into German, the sermon made central, the char
acteristic doctrines and ceremonies of the older worship done
1 Kidd, pp. 408-423. 2 Ibid., pp. 424-441.
SPREAD OF THE REFORMATION 363
away.1 Meanwhile, on April 2, 1524, Zwingli had publicly
married Anna Reinhard, a widow, whom he and his friends,
not without considerable unfriendly gossip, had treated as in
some sense his wife since 1522. Alb this time the Popes had
made no effective interference in Zurich affairs, largely by
reason of the political value of Switzerland in the wars. The
bishop of Constance had done what he could, but to no avail.
Naturally Zwingli followed with eagerness the fortunes of
the ecclesiastical revolution in other parts of Switzerland and
the adjacent regions of Germany, and aided it to the utmost
of his ability. Basel, where the civil authority had gained large
influence in churchly affairs before the revolt, was won gradu
ally for the Evangelical cause, chiefly by Johann (Ecolampadius
(1482-1531), who labored there continuously from 1522. There
the mass was abolished in 1529. (Ecolampadius and Zwingli
were warm friends. Bern, the greatest of the Swiss cantons,
was won for the reform in 1528, after much preliminary Evan
gelical labor, by a public debate in which Zwingli took part.2
St. Gallen, Schaffhausen, Glarus, and Miilhausen in Alsace were
also won. Of even larger importance was the inclination of
the great German city of Strassburg to the Zwinglian, rather
than the Lutheran, point of view. In that city the Evangelical
revolution, begun in 1521 by Matthew Zell (1477-1548), had
been carried forward vigorously from 1523 by Wolfgang Capito
(1478-1541) and by the able and peace-loving Martin Butzer
(1491-1551), though not wholly completed till 1529.
Zwingli and Luther were in many respects in substantial
agreement, but they wrere temperamentally unlike, and their
religious experiences had been very different. Luther had
reached his goal by a profound religious struggle, involving a
transforming sense of relationship between his soul and God.
Zwingli had travelled the humanists' road, though going much
farther than most humanists. His emphases were unlike
Luther's. When Luther thought of the why of salvation, which
was relatively infrequently, he gave the Augustinian answer.
Luther's interest was much more in the how. To Zwingli the
will of God rather than the way of salvation was the central
fact of theology. To Luther the Christian life was one of
freedom in forgiven sonship. To Zwingli it was far more one
of conformity to the will of God as set forth in the Bible.
1 Kidd, pp. 441-450. « Ibid., pp. 459-464.
304 ZWINGLI AND LUTHER IN CONTEST
Zwingli's nature was intellectual and critical. In no point
of Christian doctrine was his diversity from Luther more ap
parent than in their unlike interpretation of the Lord's Supper,
and here their disagreement unfortunately ultimately sundered
the Evangelical ranks. To Luther Christ's words, "This is
my body, " were literally true. His deep religious feeling saw
in an actual partaking of Christ the surest pledge of that union
with Christ and forgiveness of sins of which the Supper was
the divinely attested promise. But as early as 1521 a Dutch
lawyer, Cornelius Hoen, had urged that the proper interpre
tation is "This signifies my body." Hoen's argument came
to Zwingli's notice in 1523, and confirmed the symbolic under
standing of the words to which the Swiss theologian was
already inclined. Henceforth he denied any physical presence
of Christ in the Supper, and emphasized its memorial charac
ter and its significance as uniting a congregation of believers
in a common attestation of loyalty to their Lord. By 1524
the rival interpretations had led to an embittered controversy
of pamphlets in which Luther and Bugenhagen on the one side
and Zwingli and (Ecolampadius on the other, and their respec
tive associates, took part. The most important work of
Luther's was his [Great] Confession Concerning the Lord's Sup
per, of 1528. Little charity was shown on either side. To
Zwingli Luther's assertion of the physical presence of Christ
was an unreasoning remnant of Catholic superstition. A phys
ical body could be only in one place. To Luther Zwingli's in
terpretation was a sinful exaltation of reason above Scripture,
and he sought to explain the physical presence of Christ on
ten thousand altars at once by a scholastic assertion, derived
largely from Occam, that the qualities of Christ's divine na
ture, including ubiquity, were communicated to His human
nature. Luther was anxious, also, to maintain that the be
liever partook of the whole divine-human Christ, and to avoid
any dismemberment of His person. Luther declared Zwingli
and his supporters to be no Christians, while Zwingli affirmed
that Luther was worse than the Roman champion, Eck.
Zwingli's views, however, met the approval not only of Ger
man-speaking Switzerland but of much of southwestern Ger
many. The Roman party rejoiced at this evident division of
the Evangelical forces.
Zwingli was the most gifted of any of the reformers politi-
ZWINGLI'S POLITICAL PLANS AND DEATH 365
cally, and developed plans which were far-reaching, though
in the end futile. The old rural cantons, Uri, Schwyz, Unter-
walden,. and Zug, were strongly conservative and opposed to
the changes in Zurich, and with them stood Lucerne, the whole
constituting a vigorous Roman party. By April, 1524, these
had formed a league to resist heresy. To offset this effort and
to carry Evangelical preaching into yet wider territories,
Zwingli now proposed that Zurich enter into alliance with
France and Savoy, and began negotiations with the dispos
sessed Duke Ulrich of Wurttemberg. Matters drifted along,
but a more successful attempt was the organization of "The
Christian Civic Alliance," late in 1527, between Zurich and
Constance,1 a league to which Bern and St. Gallen were
added in 1528, and Biel, Miilhausen, Basel, and Schaffhausen
in 1529. Though Strassburg joined early in 1530, the league
was far less extensive than Zwingli planned. As it was it was
divisive of Swiss unity, and the conservative Roman cantons
formed a counter " Christian Union " and secured alliance with
Austria in 1529. Hostilities were begun. But Austrian help
for the Roman party was not forthcoming, and on June 25,
1529, peace was made between the two parties at Kappel, on
terms very favorable to Zurich and the Zwinglians.2 The
league -with Austria was abandoned.
Zurich was now at the height of its power, and was widely
regarded as the political head of the Evangelical cause. Yet
the peace had been but a truce, and when, in 1531, Zurich tried
to force Evangelical preaching on the Roman cantons by an
embargo on shipment of food to them, war was once more
certain. Zurich, in spite of Zwingli's counsels, made no ade
quate preparation for the struggle. The Roman cantons
moved rapidly. On October 11, 1531, they defeated the men
of Zurich in battle at Kappel. Among the slain was Zwingli
himself. In the peace that followed3 Zurich was compelled to
abandon its alliances, and each canton was given full right to
regulate its internal religious affairs. The progress of the
Reformation in German-speaking Switzerland was permanently
halted, and the lines drawn substantially as they are to-day.
In the leadership of the Zurich church, not in his political
ambitions, Zwingli was succeeded by the able and conciliatory
Heinrich Bullinger (1504-1575). The Swiss movement, as a
1 Kidd, p. 469. * /^. j p. 470. s jbidtf pp. 475.476.
366 ANABAPTISTS IN ZURICH
whole, was to be modified and greatly developed by the genius
of Calvin; and to the churches which trace their spiritual
parentage to him, and thus in part to Zwingli, the name " Re
formed," as distinguished from "Lutheran," was ultimately
to be given.
SECTION IV. THE ANABAPTISTS
It has been said, in speaking of Karlstadt, that some who
once worked with Luther came to feel that he was but a half
way reformer. Such was even more largely Zwingli's experi
ence. Among those who had been most forward in favoring
innovations in Zurich were Conrad Grebel and Felix Manz,
both from prominent families of the city. They and others
soon came to feel that Zwingli's leadership in the application of
the Biblical test to Zurich practices was far too conservative.
This element first came into evidence at the second great de
bate, in October, 1523 (ante, p. 362), where it demanded the
immediate abolition of images and of the mass — steps for which
the cantonal authorities were not as yet fully ready. An abler
participant in that debate was Balthasar Hubmaier (1480?-
1528), once a pupil, then colleague and friend of Luther's oppo
nent, Eck, but now preacher in Waldshut, on the northern edge
of Switzerland. Led to Evangelical views by Luther's writings
in 1522, he was successfully urging reform in his city. As
early as May, 1523, he had come to doubt infant baptism, and
had discussed it with Zwingli, who, according to his testimony,
then sympathized with him. His criticisms were based on
want of Scriptural warrant for administration to infants.1 By
1524 Grebel and Manz had reached the same conclusion,2
but it was not till early in 1525 that they or Hubmaier translated
theory into practice.
Their criticisms led, in January, 1525, to a public debate
with Zwingli, as a consequence of which the cantonal authori
ties of Zurich ordered all children baptized — there had evi
dently been delay on the part of some parents — and in par
ticular directed Grebel and Manz to cease from disputing, and
banished the priest of Wytikon, Wilhelm Roubli.3 To these
men this seemed a command by an earthly power to act coun
ter to the Word of God. They and some of their friends
1 Kidd, p. 451. 2 Ibid., p. 452. 3 Ibid., pp. 453, 454.
SPREAD OF THE ANABAPTISTS 367
gathered in a private house in Zollicon, near Zurich, on Feb
ruary 7, 1525, and there Manz, or Georg Blaurock, once a monk,
instituted believers' baptism by sprinkling. A few weeks later
a case of immersion occurred, and after Easter, Hubmaier was
baptized in Waldshut by Roubli.1
These acts constituted the groups separate communions.
By their opponents they were nicknamed "Anabaptists," or
rebaptizers. Really, since they denied the validity of their
baptism in infancy, the name was inappropriate, and "Bap
tists " would be the truer designation ; but as a title consecrated
by long usage to a remarkable movement of the Reformation
age, the more common name is convenient. The Zurich gov
ernment, in March, 1526, ordered Anabaptists drowned, in
hideous parody of their belief, and a few months later Manz
thus suffered martyrdom.2 Zwingli opposed them with much
bitterness, but with little success in winning them from their
position.3
In Waldshut Hubmaier soon gathered a large Anabaptist
community, and was even more successful in propagating his
opinions by his pen. In his view the Bible is the sole law of
the church, and according to the Scriptural test the proper
order of Christian development is, preaching the Word, hear
ing, belief, baptism, works — the latter indicating a life lived
with the Bible as its law. Waldshut, however, was soon in
volved in the peasant revolt — in how far through Hubmaier
is doubtful — and shared the collapse of that movement. Hub
maier had to fly, and the city was once more Catholic. Im
prisoned and tortured in Zurich, he fled to Moravia, where he
propagated the Anabaptist movement with much success.
These persecutions had the effect of spreading the Ana
baptist propaganda throughout Germany and the Netherlands.
The movement soon assumed great proportions, especially
among the lower classes, when the miserable failure of the peas
ant revolt had caused deep distrust of the Lutheran cause, now
wholly associated with territorial princes and aristocratic city
magistrates. In the still Catholic parts of the empire the Ana
baptist propaganda practically superseded the Lutheran. On
the other hand, Anabaptist rejection of princely control but
strengthened the hostility of the Lutheran and Roman authori
ties. In February, 1527, a meeting of Anabaptist leaders was
1 Kidd, pp. 454, 455. 2 Ibid., p. 455. 3 Ibid., pp. 456-458.
368 BELIEFS OF THE ANABAPTISTS
held in Schlatt, where seven articles of faith were drawn up by
Michael Sattler, an earnest and worthy former monk. In them
believers' baptism was asserted. The church is regarded as
composed only of local associations of baptized experiential
Christians — united as the body of Christ by common observance
of the Lord's Supper; its only weapon is excommunication.
Absolute rejection of all "servitude of the flesh," such as the
worship of the Roman, Lutheran, and Zwinglian Churches, is
demanded. Each congregation is to choose its own officers
and administer through them its discipline. While civil gov
ernment is still a necessity in this imperfect world, the Chris
tian should have no share in it, nor should he take any form
of oath. Here were ideas which were to be represented, in
varying proportions, by later Baptists, Congregationalists, and
Quakers, and through them to have a profound influence on
the religious development of England and America.
The Anabaptist ideal implied a self-governing congregation,
independent of state or episcopal control, having the Bible as
its law, and living a rather ascetic life of strict conformity to
a literal interpretation of supposedly Biblical requirements.
The sources of these opinions are still in dispute. By some
the Anabaptists are regarded as the radicals of the Reforma
tion period ; by others as the fruit of new interest in Bible read
ing by the literal-minded ; by still others as revivals of mediaeval
anti-Roman sects. There is truth in all these theories. The
Anabaptists themselves had no consciousness of connection
with pre-Reformation movements; they made the Bible liter
ally their law, but many of their characteristics are undoubt
edly pre-Reformation. Such is their view of the Bible as a
new law in church and state, through obedience to which
God's favor is to be preserved. They had as little sympathy
with Luther's conception of the Gospel as summed up in the
forgiveness of sins, as with the Roman conception of salvation
through the sacraments. Pre-Reformation is their ascetic
view of the Christian life. So is their conception of the state
as a concession to sin, and unworthy of the participation of a
Christian in its administration. Such, also, are their strong
apocalyptic and mystical tendencies.
The views which have been indicated were those of the
overwhelming majority of Anabaptists; but a radical move
ment attracts extremists, and there were not a few who went
ANABAPTIST MARTYRS 369
much further, tyut cannot he regarded as representative of the
Anabaptists as a whole. Such was the learned humanist
Johann Denk (?-1527), who taught an inner light superior to
all Scripture, saw in Christ only the highest human example
of love, and held that the Christian may live without sin.
Associated with Denk in these opinions, was the learned Ludwig
Haetzer, to whom was due, with Denk's aid, a translation of
the Old Testament prophetical books, but who was beheaded
for adulteries at Constance in 1529. The radical preacher,
Hans Hut, to whose work much of the rapid spread of Ana
baptist views among the working classes of south Germany
and Austria was due, declared himself a prophet, affirming that
persecution of the saints would be immediately followed by
the destruction of the empire by the Turks, following which
event the saints would be gathered, and by them all priests and
unworthy rulers destroyed, whereupon Christ would visibly
reign on earth. In Hubmaier, Hut had a vigorous opponent,
but Hut's preaching ended only with his death, in 1527 in
Augsburg, through burns received in an attempt to escape
from the prison by setting it afire. Some of the more radical
Anabaptist leaders taught community of goods and social
revolution.
Everywhere the hand of the authorities, Catholic and Evan
gelical, was heavy on the Anabaptists — though most Prot
estant territories used banishment rather than the death
penalty. Their leaders were martyred. In 1527 Manz met
death by drowning in Zurich, while Sattler was burned and his
wife drowned near Rottenburg. The next year Hubmaier
was burned in Vienna and his wife drowned. Blaurock was
burned in the Tyrol in 1529. With these leaders perished
great numbers of their followers. Yet the movement con
tinued to spread, and by 1529 was exceedingly perilous for the
Protestant cause, being looked upon by the Catholics as the
legitimate outcome of revolt from Rome, dividing the forces
of reform, and to the thinking of the Lutherans bringing the
Evangelical cause into discredit. There can be no doubt that
one important effect of the Anabaptist movement was to at
tach the Lutherans more strongly to the conception of prince
and magistrate ruled territorial churches as the only guar
antee of good order and of effective opposition to Rome.
370 THE MARBURG COLLOQUY
SECTION V. GERMAN PROTESTANTISM ESTABLISHED
The successful conclusion of the great war with France and
reconciliation with Pope Clement VII had left the Emperor
free, in 1529, to interfere at last effectively in German affairs.
The Reichstag of Speier, of that year, alarmed at Lutheran
progress and the spread of the Anabaptists, and conscious of
the change in the Emperor's prospects, had forbidden further
Lutheran advance, and practically ordered the restoration of
Roman episcopal authority. The Lutheran minority had pro
tested. In this threatening situation Philip of Hesse had at
tempted to secure a defensive league of all German and Swiss
Evangelical forces. The chief hindrances were the doctrinal
differences between the two parties, but Philip hoped that they
might be adjusted by a conference, and though Luther was
opposed, consent was at last secured, and October 1, 1529, saw
Luther and Melanchthon met face to face with Zwingli and
(Ecolampadius, in Philip's castle in Marburg. With them were
a number of the lesser leaders of both parties. During the
succeeding days the Marburg colloquy ran its course. Luther
was somewhat suspicious of the soundness of the Swiss on the
doctrines of the Trinity and original sin, but the real point of
difference was the presence or absence of Christ's physical
body in the Supper. Luther held firmly to the literal inter
pretation of the words: "This is My body." Zwingli urged
the familiar argument that a physical body could not be in
two places at the same time. Agreement was impossible.
Zwingli urged that both parties were, after all, Christian breth
ren, but Luther declared: "You have a different spirit than
we." x
Yet Philip would not let the hope of a protective league
thus vanish, and he persuaded the two parties to draw up
fifteen articles of faith. On fourteen there was agreement.
The fifteenth had to do with the Supper, and here there was
unanimity on all save the one point as to the nature of Christ's
presence, where the differences were stated. These Marburg
Articles both sides now signed with the provision that "each
should show Christian love to the other as far as the conscience
of each may permit." 2 Luther and Zwingli each left Mar
burg with the conviction that he was the victor. On the way
1 Kidd, pp. 247-254. 2 Ibid., pp. 254, 255.
THE "AUGSBURG CONFESSION" 371
home Luther prepared a somewhat more pointed series of
articles — the Schwabach Articles — on the basis of those of
Marburg.1 Their greatest significance for the development of
Lutheranism is, perhaps, the declaration that "the church is
nothing else than believers in Christ who hold, believe, and
teach the above enumerated articles." The original Lutheran
conception of a church composed of those justified by their
faith, had become transformed into that of those who not only
have faith but accept a definite and exact doctrinal statement.
These Schwabach Articles were now made by the Elector of
Saxony and the margrave of Brandenburg-Ansbach the test
of political confederacy. Only Nuremberg of the great south
German cities would accept them. The defensive league of
Evangelicals which Philip had hoped, was impossible. The
Lutherans and the Swiss each went their own way, for the divi
sion was permanent.
In January, 1530, the Emperor sent the call from Italy,
where he was about to be crowned by the Pope, for a Reichstag
to meet in Augsburg. With unexpected friendliness, while de
claring the adjustment of religious differences to be a main
object of its meeting, he promised a kindly hearing for all rep
resentations. That demanded of the Protestants a statement
of their beliefs and of their criticisms of the older practice,
and these they now set about to prepare.2 Luther, Melanch-
thon, Bugenhagen, and Jonas drew up their criticisms of Roman
practices, which, as worked over by Melanchthon, constitute
the second, or negative, part of the , Augsburg Confession;
and a little later Melanchthon prepared its affirmative articles,
which form the first part. On June 25, 1530, it was read to
the Emperor in German. It bore the approving signatures of
Elector John of Saxony, his heir, John Frederick, Margrave
George of Brandenburg-Ansbach, Dukes Ernst and Franz of
Brunswick-Liineburg, Landgrave Philip of Hesse, Wolfgang of
Anhalt, and of the representatives of Nuremberg and Reut-
lingen. Before the close of the Reichstag the cities of Heil-
bronn, Kempten, Weissenburg, and Windsheim also signified
their approval of this Augsburg Confession.*
The Augsburg Confession was chiefly the work of the mild
and conciliatory Melanchthon. Though kept informed of the
1 Kidd, p. 255. 2 Ibid., pp. 257-259.
3 Ibid., pp. 259-289 ; in Eng. tr. Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, 3 : 3-73.
372 THE "AUGSBURG CONFESSION"
course of events, Luther, as under imperial ban, could not
come to Augsburg and remained in Coburg. Melanchthon
modified his draft and made concessions, till checked by his
fellow Protestants. Nor was it wholly conciliation that moved
Melanchthon. His purpose was to show that the Lutherans
had departed in no vital and essential respect from the Catholic
Church, or even from the Roman Church, as revealed in its
earlier writers. That agreement is expressly affirmed, and
many ancient heresies are carefully repudiated by name. On
the other hand, Zwinglian and Anabaptist positions are ener
getically rejected. The sole authority of Scripture is nowhere
expressly asserted. The papacy is nowhere categorically con
demned. The universal priesthood of believers is not men
tioned. Yet Melanchthon gave a thoroughly Protestant tone
to the confession as a whole. Justification by faith is ad
mirably defined, the Protestant notes of the church made
evident; invocation of saints, the mass, denial of the cup,
monastic vows, and prescribed fasting rejected.
To the Emperor Zwingli sent a vigorous expression of his
views, which received scanty attention. A more significant
event was the presentation of a joint confession by the Zwin-
glian-inclined south German cities, Strassburg, Constance,
Memmingen, and Lindau — the Confessio Tetrapolitana — largely
from the pen of Butzer, in which a position intermediate be
tween that of the Zwinglians and Lutherans was maintained.
The papal legate, Cardinal Campeggio, advised l that the
confession be examined by Roman theologians present in
Augsburg. This the Emperor approved, and chief among
these experts was Luther's old opponent, Eck. Melanchthon
was willing to make concessions that would have ruined the
whole Lutheran cause,2 but fortunately for it the Evangelical
princes were of sterner stuff. The Catholic theologians pre
pared a confutation, which was sent back to them by the
Emperor and Catholic princes as too polemic, and was at last
presented to the Reichstag in much milder form on August 3.
The Emperor still hoped for reconciliation, and committees
of conference were now appointed ; but their work was vain —
a result to which Luther's firmness largely contributed.3 The
Catholic majority voiced the decision of the Reichstag that
the Lutherans had been duly confuted, that they be given
1 Kidd, pp. 289-293. 2 Ibid., pp. 293, 294. 3 Ibid., p. 290-
THE SCHMALKALDIC LEAGUE 373
till April 15, 1531, to conform; that combined action be had
against Zwinglians and Anabaptists, and that a general council
be sought within a year to heal abuses in the church. The re
constituted imperial law court should decide, in Catholic inter
est, cases of secularization.1 The Lutherans protested, de
clared their confession not refuted, and called attention to
Melanchthon's Apology, or defense of the confession, which he
had hastily prepared when the vanity of concessions was at
last becoming apparent even to him. That Apology, rewritten
and published the next year (1531), was to be one of the classics
of Lutheranism.
Such a situation demanded defensive union. Even Luther,
who had held it a sin to oppose the Emperor by force, now was
willing to leave the rightfulness of such resistance to the
decision of the lawyers. At Christmas the Lutheran princes
assembled in Schmalkalden and laid the foundations of a league.
Butzer, whose union efforts were unremitting, persuaded Strass-
burg to accept the Augsburg Confession — an example which
had great effect on other south German cities. Finally, on
February 27, 1531, the Schmalkaldic league was completed.
Electoral Saxony, Hesse, Brunswick, Anhalt, and Mansfeld
stood in defensive agreement with the cities Strassburg, Con
stance, Ulm, Reutlingen, Memmingen, Lindau, Isny, Bibe-
rach, Magdeburg, Bremen, and Llibeck.2
Strong as the position of Charles V appeared on the surface
it was not so in reality in the face of this united opposition.
The Catholic princes were jealous of one another and of the
Emperor. The Pope feared a general council. France was
still to be reckoned with. The fatal day— April 15, 1531-
therefore passed without the threatened result. In October,
1531, the death of Zwingli at Kappel (ante, p. 365) deprived
Swiss Evangelicalism of its vigorous head, and inclined south
German Protestantism to closer union with that of Witten
berg. The spring of 1532 brought a new danger to the empire
as a whole, that of Turkish invasion. In 1529 the Turks had
besieged Vienna, and before their advance religious differences
had, in a measure, to give way. On July 23, 1532, the Emperor
and the Schmalkaldic league agreed to the truce of Nuremberg,
by which all existing lawsuits over secularizations should be
dropped and peace was assured to the Protestants until a
1 Kidd, pp. 298-300. 2 Ibid., p. 301.
374 PROTESTANT GROWTH
general council, or at least a new Reichstag, should assemble.1
Shortly after Charles V left Germany for Italy and Spain, not
to return till 1541. Though still precarious, the Protestant
outlook had greatly improved.
Protestantism now rapidly won new territories. By 1534
Anhalt-Dessau, Hanover, Frankfort, and Augsburg had been
gained. Of even greater moment was the conquest for Protes
tantism of Wurttemberg by Philip of Hesse, from the Em
peror's brother, Ferdinand, and the restoration of its Duke
Ulrich — a result greatly aided by Catholic jealousy of the power
of the house of Habsburg. The death of Duke George, in 1539,
was followed by the triumph of Protestantism in ducal Saxony,
and the same year a cautious adhesion to the Reformation was
won from electoral Brandenburg.
This growing victory of Lutheranism was aided by a tragic
episode of 1533-1535, which robbed Anabaptism of its influ
ence in Germany — the Miinster revolution. The Anabaptists
in general were peaceable, if rather ignorant, people, of great
religious earnestness, and patient endurance in persecution.
The Miinster episode was not typical of them as a whole.
Yet there were among them many radicals of whom Hans Hut
(ante, p. 369) was an early example. Such a leader was Mel-
chior Hoffmann. At first a devoted Lutheran, he became an
equally earnest Anabaptist, with added claims to prophetic
inspiration. His great success was in Friesland. He declared
that Strassburg had been divinely designated as the new
Jerusalem, where he, as the prophet of the new dispensation,
should suffer imprisonment for six months, but with 1533 the
end of the world would come, and all who opposed the "saints"
be destroyed. In this faith he went to Strassburg, and his
prophecy was so far fulfilled that he was there imprisoned, and
in prison he remained till his death in 1543.
Hoffmann's apocalyptic preaching won many disciples in
the Netherlands. One of these, Jan Mathys, a baker of Har
lem, gave himself forth as the prophet Enoch, and soon spread
a fanatical propaganda widely through the Netherlands and
adjacent parts of Germany. Unlike Hoffmann, who would
wait for the power of God to bring in the new age, Mathys
would inaugurate it by force. Popular democratic discontent
gave him his opportunity.
1 Kidd, pp. 302-304.
THE MUNSTER TRAGEDY 375
Nowhere was this new teaching more influential than in
Miinster, where Bernt Rothmann, the Evangelical preacher,
was won for radical views in January, 1534. Thither came
Mathys soon after, and a tailor of Leyden, Jan Beukelssen.
It was now asserted that God had rejected Strassburg by
reason of its unbelief, and chosen Miinster as the new Jeru
salem in its stead. Radicals flocked thither in large numbers.
In February, 1534, they gained the mastery of the city, and
drove out those who would not accept the new order. The
bishop of Miinster laid siege to the city. Mathys was killed
in battle. Jan Beukelssen was proclaimed King. Polygamy
was established, community of goods enforced, all opponents
bloodily put down. The struggle, though heroically maintained,
was hopeless. The bishop, aided by Catholic and Lutheran
troops, captured the city on June 24, 1535, and the surviving
leaders were put to death by extreme torture. For German
Anabaptism it was a catastrophe. Such fanaticism was pop
ularly supposed to be characteristic of the Anabaptists, and
the name became one of ignominy. For Lutheranism it was a
gain. It freed the Lutheran cause from the Anabaptist rivalry,
but it made Lutheranism even more positively than before a
party of princely and middle-class sympathies. As for the
Anabaptist movement itself it came, especially in the Nether
lands, under the wise, peace-loving, anti-fanatical leadership
of Menno Simons (1492-1559), to whom its worthy reorganiza
tion was primarily due, and from whom the term "Mennonite"
is derived.
Charles V had never ceased to hope and to labor for a gen
eral council, by which the divisions of the church could be
healed and administrative reforms effected. From Clement
VII he could not secure it. Paul III (1534-1549), who suc
ceeded Clement, though by no means a single-hearted religious
man, had much more appreciation than Clement of the gravity
of the situation caused by the Reformation. He promptly ap
pointed as cardinals Gasparo Contarini (1483-1542), Jacopo
Sadoleto (1477-1547), Reginald Pole (1500-1558), and Gio
vanni Pietro Caraffa (1476-1559), all men desirous of reform
in morals, zeal, and administration, who laid before the Pope,
in 1538, extensive recommendations for ecclesiastical better
ments.1 By Paul III a general council was actually called
1 Kidd, pp. 307-318.
376 PLANS OF THE EMPEROR CHARLES
to meet In Mantua in 1537. Before the date set the new war
between Charles V and Francis I of France (1536-1538) had
made its assembly impossible. Charles had set his heart on
the council, and before the time that it should have opened
he demanded of the Protestant leaders assembled in Schmal-
kalden, in February, 1537, that they agree to take part. The
imperial order put them in a difficult position. They had long
talked of a general council. Luther had appealed to such a
gathering as early as 1518. But they saw clearly that they
would be outvoted, and they refused to share in the council
as in an Italian city, and under the dominance of the Pope.
Charles saw that a council was impossible for the time,
and he now tried the experiment of reunion discussions. Such
were actually held in Hagenau in June, 1540, in Worms later
in the same year, and in Regensburg in April, 1541. Melanch-
.thon, Butzer, Calvin, and others took part in one or more of
the colloquies on the Protestant side ; Eck, Contarini, and others
on the Catholic. It was in vain, however. The differences
were too vital for compromise.
It was evident to Charles V that the pathway of conciliation
was hopeless, and that the Protestants would not share in a
general council unless their military and political strength
could first be reduced. That union of Protestant interests
was no less a peril to imperial authority in political concerns.
It was breaking hopelessly what little unity was left in the
empire. Charles, therefore, slowly and with many hesitations,
developed his great plan. He would have a general council
in being. He would so reduce the strength of Protestantism by
force that the Protestants would accept the council as a final
arbiter; and the council could then make such minor conces
sions as would be needful for the reunion of Christendom, and
correct such abuses as Protestants and Catholics alike con
demned. To realize this plan he must secure three preliminary
results. He must, if possible, divide the Schmalkaldic league
politically ; he must ward off danger of French attack ; and the
ever-threatening peril of Turkish invasion must, for a time at
least, be minimized.
The Emperor's purpose of dividing the Protestants was aided
by one of the most curious episodes of Reformation history.
Landgrave Philip of Hesse, the political genius of the Schmal
kaldic league, though sacrificial in devotion to the Protestant
LANDGRAVE PHILIP'S BIGAMY 377
cause, was, like most princes of that age, a man of low per
sonal morality. Though married early to a daughter of Duke
George .of Saxony, who bore him seven children, he had no af
fection for her. His constant adulteries troubled his conscience
to the extent that, from 1526 to 1539 he partook of the Lord's
Supper but once. He grew anxious as to his soul's salvation,
without improving his conduct. For some years he enter
tained the thought of a second marriage as a solution of his
perplexities. The Old Testament worthies had practised
polygamy. The New Testament nowhere expressly forbad it.
Why should not he? This reasoning was strengthened by
acquaintance with Margarete von der Sale, an attractive seven
teen-year-old daughter of a lady of his sister's little court.
The mother's consent was won on condition that the Elector
and the duke of Saxony, and some others should be informed
that it was to be a real marriage. Philip's first wife also con
sented. Philip was fully persuaded himself of the rightfulness
of the step, but for the sake of public opinion, he desired the
approval of the Wittenberg theologians. He therefore sent
for Butzer of Strassburg, whom he partly persuaded, partly
frightened with threats of seeking dispensation from the Em
peror or the Pope, into full support of his plan. Butzer now
became Philip's messenger to Luther and Melanchthon, and
to the Saxon Elector, though the matter was presented as an
abstract question, without mention of the person with whom
marriage wras contemplated. On December 10, 1539, Luther
and Melanchthon gave their opinion. Polygamy they declared
to be contrary to the primal law of creation, which Christ had
approved ; but a special case required oftentimes treatment
which did not conform to the general rule. If Philip could not
reform his life, it would be better to marry as he proposed
than to live as he was doing. The marriage should, however,
be kept absolutely a secret, so that the second wife should ap
pear to be a concubine. The advice wras thoroughly bad,
though the Wittenberg reformers seem to have been moved
by a sincere desire to benefit Philip's soul.
Philip was more honorable than the advice. On March 4,
1540, he married Margarete in what, though private, cannot be
called secret fashion. A court preacher performed the cere
mony, and Melanchthon, Butzer, and a representative of the
Saxon Elector were among the witnesses. Though an attempt
378 THE EMPEROR PREPARES THE BLOW
was made to keep the affair private, that soon proved impos
sible. Luther could only advise " a good strong lie " ; but Philip
was manly enough to declare: "I will not lie."
The scandal was great, both among Protestants and Catholics.
The other Evangelical princes would not defend Philip's act
or promise protection from its results. The Emperor saw in
it his opportunity. On June 13, 1541, he secured an agree
ment from Philip, as the price of no worse consequences, that
the landgrave would neither personally, nor as representative
of the Schmalkaldic league, make alliances with foreign states.
The hopeful negotiations with France, England, Denmark,
and Sweden, which would have greatly strengthened the power
of the Schmalkaldic league against the Emperor had to be
dropped. Worse than that, Philip had to promise not to aid
the Evangelically inclined Duke Wilhelm of Cleves, whose rights
over Gelders Charles disputed. As the Saxon Elector was Wil-
helm's brother-in-law, and determined to support him, a seri
ous division in the Schmalkaldic league was the result, which
showed its disastrous consequences when the Emperor de
feated Wilhelm, in 1543, took Gelders permanently into his own
possession, and forced Wilhelm to repudiate Lutheranism.
This defeat rendered abortive a hopeful attempt to secure the
great archbishopric of Cologne for the Protestant cause.1
Fortune favored Charles in the rest of his programme. Paul
III was persuaded to call the General Council to meet in
Trent, a town then belonging to the empire, but practically
Italian, in 1542. War caused a postponement, but in Decem
ber, 1545, it at last actually began its sessions, which were to
run a checkered and interrupted course till 1563. By vague,
but indefinite, promises Charles secured, at the Reichstag in
Speier in 1544, the passive support of the Protestants, and
some active assistance, for the wars against France and the
Turks. The campaign against France was brief. The Em
peror, in alliance with Henry VIII of England, pushed on nearly
to Paris, when, to the surprise of Europe he made peace with
the French King, without, apparently, gaining any of the
advantages in his grasp. Really, he had eliminated French
interference in possible aid of German Protestantism for th
immediate future.2 The Turks, busy with a war in Persia,
and internal quarrels, made a truce with the Emperor in
1 Kidd, pp. 350-354. 2 Ibid., p. 354.
LUTHER'S DEATH 379
October, 1545. <A1I seemed to have worked together for his
blow against German Protestantism.
It was while prospects were thus darkening that Luther died
on a visit to Eisleben, the town in which he was born, on
February 18, 1546, in consequence of an attack of heart-disease
or apoplexy. His last years had been far from happy. His
health had long been wretched. The quarrels of the reformers,
to which he had contributed his full share, distressed him.
Above all, the failure of the pure preaching of justification by
faith alone greatly to transform the social, civic, and political
life about him grieved him. He was comforted by a happy
home life and by full confidence in his Gospel. The work
which he had begun had passed far beyond the power of any
one man, however gifted, to control. He was no longer needed;
but his memory must always be that of one of the most titanic
figures in the history of the church.
Before actually entering on the war, Charles succeeded yet
further in dividing the Protestants. Ducal Saxony had be
come fully Protestant under Duke Heinrich (1539-1541), but
his short reign had been followed by the accession of his young
son, Moritz (1541-1553). Of great political abilities, Moritz was
a character difficult to estimate, because in an age dominated
by professed religious motives, however in reality oftentimes
political, he cared nothing for the religious questions involved
and everything for his own political advancement. Though
son-in-law of Philip of Hesse and cousin of Elector John Fred
erick of Saxony (1532-1547), Moritz had quarrelled with the
Elector and was not on very good terms with Philip. The
Emperor now, in June, 1546, secured his support secretly, by
the promise of the transfer to Moritz of his cousin's electoral
dignity in case of successful war, and other important con
cessions. Thus at length prepared, the Emperor declared
John Frederick and Philip under ban for disloyalty to the
empire — Charles desired the war to seem political rather than
religious. The Schmalkaldic league had made no adequate
preparations. Moritz's defection was a great blow. Though
at first the campaign went well for the Protestants, electoral
Saxony was crushed at the battle of Muhlberg on the Elbe, on
April 24, 1547, in which John Frederick was captured. Philip
saw the cause was hopeless and surrendered himself to the
Emperor. Both princes were imprisoned. Moritz received
380 THE INTERIMS
the electoral title and half his cousin's territories. Politically
Protestantism was crushed. Only a few northern cities, of
which Madgeburg was the chief, and a few minor northern
princes still offered resistance.
Yet, curiously enough, the Emperor who had just crushed
Protestantism politically had never been on worse terms with
the Pope. Paul III had aided him early in the war, but had
drawn back fearing that the successful Emperor might grow too
powerful. Charles wished the Council of Trent to move slowly
till he had the Protestants ready to recognize it. He would
have it make such minor concessions as might then seem to
allay Protestant prejudice. The Pope wished the council
to define Catholic faith quickly and go home. It had already,
by April, 1546, made agreement difficult by defining tradition
to be a source of authority in matters of faith.1 To minimize
imperial influence the Pope declared the council adjourned to
Bologna in March, 1547. This transfer the Emperor refused
to recognize and declined to be bound by the Tridentine de
cisions already framed. Some method of religious agreement
must be reached under which Germany could live till the heal
ing of the schism which Charles expected from the council.
The Emperor, therefore, had an ecclesiastical commission
draft an Interim. This was essentially Roman, while granting
the cup to the laity, permitting clerical marriage and limiting
slightly the powers of the Pope. The Catholic princes refused
to accept it as applying to them. The Pope denounced it.
Charles had to abandon hope of making it a temporary reunion
programme, but secured its adoption on June 30, 1548, by the
Reichstag in Augsburg as applying to the ex-Protestants. This
Augsburg Interim he now proceeded to enforce with a heavy
hand. Moritz of Saxony had done such service to the imperial
cause that a modification, known as the Leipzig Interim was
allowed in his lands. It asserted justification by faith alone,
but re-established much of Roman usage and government. To
it Melanchthon reluctantly consented, regarding its Roman
parts as " adiaphora," or non-essential matter. For this weak
ness he was bitterly denounced by the defiant Lutherans of
unconquered Magdeburg, notably by Matthias Flacius Illy-
ricus (1520-1575) and Nikolaus von Amsdorf (1483-1565).
Flacius, especially, did much to maintain popular Lutheranism
1 Kidd, pp. 355, 356.
COLLAPSE OF THE EMPEROR'S EFFORTS 381
in this dark time; but the bitter quarrels among Lutheran
theologians had begun.
Yet, superficially, it seemed as if Charles was nearing his goal.
Pope Paul III died in 1549, and was succeeded by Julius III
(1550-1555), who proved more tractable to the Emperor.
The new Pope summoned the council to meet once more in
Trent, and Protestant theologians actually appeared before it
in 1552. Really, Germany was profoundly disaffected, the
Protestants groaning under the imperial yoke, and the Catholic
princes jealous of Charles's increased power and of his appar
ently successful attempt to secure the imperial succession ulti
mately for his son, later to be famous as Philip II of Spain.
Moritz of Saxony was dissatisfied that his father-in-law, Philip
of Hesse, was still imprisoned; he felt, moreover, that he
had secured all he could hope for from the Emperor, that his
subjects were Lutheran, and that only as a Lutheran leader
against the Emperor, could his boundless ambition be further
gratified.
The reduction of defiant Magdeburg, in the name of the
Emperor, gave Moritz excuse for raising an army. Agreements
were made with the Lutheran princes of northern Germany.
The aid of King Henry II of France (1547-1559) was secured at
the price of the surrender to France of the German border cities
of Metz, Toul, and Verdun. Charles knew the plot, but took
no adequate steps to meet it. The blow came swiftly. Henry
invaded Lorraine and took the coveted cities. Moritz marched
rapidly southward, almost capturing the Emperor, who es
caped by flight from Innsbruck. The whole structure that
Charles had so laboriously built up toppled like a card house,
not so much before the power of Lutheranism as before the terri
torial independence of the princes. On August 2, 1552, the
Treaty of Passau brought the brief struggle to an end.
By the Treaty of Passau the settlement of the religious ques
tion was referred to the next Reichstag. That body was not
able to meet till three years later. Princely rivalries distracted
Germany. Moritz lost his life in warfare against the lawless
Margrave Albrecht of Brandenburg in 1553. Charles, con
scientiously unwilling to tolerate Protestantism, but seeing
such toleration inevitable, handed over full authority to treat
to his brother Ferdinand, though the latter was not to be chosen
Emperor till 1558. The Reichstag met in Augsburg. The
382 THE PEACE OF AUGSBURG
Lutherans demanded full rights, and possession of all ecclesi
astical property, heretofore or hereafter secularized. They
asked toleration for Lutherans in all Catholic territories, but
proposed to grant none to Catholics in their own. These
extreme demands were naturally resisted, and the result was
a compromise, the Peace of Augsburg, of September 25, 1555.1
By its provisions equal rights in the empire were extended to
Catholics and Lutherans — no other Evangelicals were recog
nized. Each lay prince should determine which of the two
faiths should be professed in his territory — no choice was
allowed his subjects — and but one faith should be permitted in
a given territory. This was the principle usually defined as
cujus regio, ejus religio. Regarding ecclesiastical territories
and properties, agreement was reached that the time of the
Treaty of Passau should be the norm. All then in Lutheran
possession should so remain, but a Catholic spiritual ruler
turning Protestant thereafter should forfeit his position and
holdings, thus insuring to the Catholics continued possession
of the spiritual territories not lost by 1552. This was the
"ecclesiastical reservation." To the common man, dissatis
fied with the faith of the territory where he lived, full right of
unhindered emigration and a fair sale of his goods was allowed
— a great advance over punishment for heresy, but his choice
was only between Catholicism and Lutheranism.
So Lutheranism acquired full legal establishment. Ger
many was permanently divided. Luther's dream of a puri
fication of the whole German church had vanished, but so had
the Catholic conception of visible unity.
The older leaders were rapidly passing. Luther had died
nine years before. Melanchthon was to live till 1560. Charles
V was to resign his possession of the Netherlands in 1555, and
of Spain a year later, and seek retirement at Yuste in Spain till
death came to him in 1558.
SECTION VI. THE SCANDINAVIAN LANDS
Denmark, Norway, and Sweden had been nominally united
under one sovereign since the union of Kalmar, in 1397. Since
1460, Schleswig-Holstein had also been under Danish control.
In none of these lands was the crown powerful. In all, the great
1 Kidd, pp. 363, 364.
THE REFORMATION IN DENMARK 383
ecclesiastics were? unpopular as oppressive, and often foreign-
born, and in all they were in rivalry with the nobility. In no
portion o£ Europe, not even in England, was the Reformation
to be more thoroughly political. At the dawn of the Reforma
tion the Danish throne was occupied by Christian II (1513-
1523), an enlightened despot of Renaissance sympathies. He
saw the chief evil of his kingdom in the power of the nobles and
ecclesiastics, and to limit that of the bishops by introducing
the Lutheran movement he secured a Lutheran preacher in
the person of Martin Reinhard, in 1520, and an adviser in
Karlstadt for a brief time in 1521. Partially at least through
the latter's counsels, a law of 1521 forbad appeals to Rome,
reformed the monasteries, limited the authority of the bishops,
and permitted priestly marriage. Opposition prevented its
execution, and the hostility of the privileged classes, which
Christian II had roused in many ways, drove him from his
throne in 1523, and made his uncle, Frederick I (1523-1533),
King in his stead.
Though inclined to Lutheranism, Frederick was forced by
the parties which had put him on the throne to promise to
respect the privileges of the nobles and prevent any heretical
preaching. Yet Lutheranism penetrated the land. In Hans
Tausen (1494-1561), a one-time monk and former Wittenberg
student, it found a preacher of popular power from 1524 on
ward. The year before, a Danish translation of the New Testa
ment had been published. By 1526, King Frederick took Tau
sen under protection as his chaplain. The same year the King
took the confirmation of the appointment of bishops into his
own hands. A law of 1527 enacted this into statute, granted
toleration to Lutherans, and permitted priestly marriage.1
These changes were aided by the support of a large section of
the nobility won by the King's countenance of their attacks
on ecclesiastical rights and property. In 1530, the same year
as the Augsburg Confession, Tausen and his associates laid
before the Danish Parliament the "Forty-three Copenhagen
Articles." No decision was reached at the time, but Lutheran
ism made increasing progress till Frederick's demise in 1533.
The death of Frederick left all in confusion. Of his two sons,
most of the nobles favored the elder, Christian III (1536-1559),
a determined Lutheran, while the bishops supported the
1 Kidd, p. 234,
384 DENMARK, NORWAY, AND ICELAND
younger, Johann. A distracting period of civil conflict followed,
from which Christian III emerged the victor in 1536. The
bishops were imprisoned, their authority abolished, and church
property confiscated for the crown.1 Christian now called on
Wittenberg for aid. Johann Bugenhagen, Luther's associate,
came in 1537, and seven new Lutheran superintendents, named
by the King, but retaining the title "bishop," were ordained
by the German reformer, who was himself a presbyter. The
Danish church was now reorganized in fully Lutheran fashion.2
Norway was a separate kingdom, but by election under the
Danish King. The Reformation scarcely touched the land
during the reign of Frederick I. In the struggles that followed
Archbishop Olaf Engelbrektsson of Trondhjem, the head of
the Norwegian clergy, led a temporizing party and fled the land
on Christian Ill's success. Norway was made a Danish
province, and the new Danish Lutheran religious constitution
was nominally introduced. Effective preaching and superin
tendence in Norway was, however, largely neglected by Chris
tian III with the result that the Reformation, imposed from
above, was long in taking effective possession of popular sym
pathies.
Much the same story may be told of the far-away Danish
possession, Iceland. The Reformation travelled slowly thither.
Bishop Gisser Einarsen of Skalholt, educated in Germany
and of Lutheran sympathies, began a conservative Lutheran
reformation in 1540, and the same year an Icelandic New Testa
ment was published. In 1548 a strong Catholic reaction, led
by Bishop Jon Aresen of Holum, attempted to throw off the
Danish yoke. By 1554 the rebellion was suppressed and
Lutheranism forcibly established, though long with little popu
lar approval.
The reformation of Sweden was largely bound up with a
national struggle for independence. Christian II of Denmark
found bitter resistance to his efforts to secure the Swedish
throne. His chief supporter was Gustaf Trolle, archbishop of
Upsala. Gustaf procured from Pope Leo X approval of the
excommunication of his opponents, though that opposition was
purely political. In 1520 Christian II captured Stockholm and
followed his coronation as King of Sweden by a deed of the
utmost cruelty. He had the unsuspecting nobles, gathered
i Kidd pp. 322-328. 2 Ibid., pp. 328-335.
THE REFORMATION IX SWEDEN 385
for the ceremoAy, executed, nominally as excommunicated
heretics. The Stockholm Bath of Blood roused Sweden to a
rebellion against Christian II; which soon found an energetic
leader in Gustaf Vasa. The Danes were expelled and, in
1523, Gustaf was chosen King (1523-1560).
Meanwhile Lutheran doctrine was being taught by two
brothers, who had returned in 1519 from studies in Wittenberg
— Olaf (1497-1552) and Lars Petersson (1499-1573), who la
bored in Strengnas, and soon won the archdeacon, Lars Anders-
son (1482-1552). By 1524 King Gustaf was definitely favor
ing these leaders. Andersson became his chancellor, and Lars
Petersson professor of theology in Upsala. On December 27,
1524, a discussion in Upsala between Olaf Petersson, now
preacher in Stockholm, and the Roman champion, Peter Galle,
seemed a victory for the reformers.1 Part of the support of
the King was probably due to religious conviction, but no small
portion was owing to the dire poverty of the crown, which
Gustaf thought could be remedied only by extensive confisca
tion of church property. In June, 1527, the King struck the
blow. At the Diet of Westeras Gustaf demanded and ob
tained by threat of resignation, the assignment to the crown of
all episcopal or monastic property which the King should deem
not needed for proper religious work, the surrender to the
heirs of the original owners of all lands exempt from taxes
acquired by the church since 1454, and "pure" preaching of
"God's Word." Provision was made for the reconstitution of
the church under royal authority.2 Though master of the
Swedish church, and now possessor of a large part of its prop
erty, Gustaf used his power in religion conservatively. Most
of the old prelates left the land. The bishop's office was re
tained, though its holders were now appointed by the King.
New bishops were consecrated, with the old rites, in 1528, at
the hands of Bishop Peter Magni, of Wresteras, who had re
ceived his office in Catholic days, and through whom apostoli
cal succession was believed to be transmitted to the Swedish
Lutheran episcopate. Further reform measures were taken by
the synod of Orebro in 1529.3 A Swedish service was issued
in 1529, and the "Swedish Mass" in 1531. In the year last
named Lars Petersson was made archbishop of Upsala, though
without jurisdiction over his fellow bishops — that remained in
1 Kidd, pp. 155-164. 2 Ibid., pp. 234-236. 3 Ibid. , pp. 236-239.
386 FAREL IN FRENCH SWITZERLAND
the hands of the King. Most of the lower clergy accepted the
Reformation and kept their places, but such changes by royal
power were far from winning immediate popular approval, and
it was long before Sweden became thoroughly Evangelical.
Its type of Lutheranism in doctrine and practice was strongly
conservative. The reform of Sweden carried with it that of
Finland, then part of the Swedish monarchy. The Swedish
church was to pass through a period of Romanizing reaction,
especially under the reign of Gustaf's son, Johan III (1569-
1592); but it was ended in 1593, when the synod of Upsala
formally adopted the Augsburg Confession as the creed of
Sweden.
SECTION VII. REVOLT IN FRENCH SWITZERLAND AND GENEVA
BEFORE CALVIN
Zurich was the strongest power in northern Switzerland,
Bern in the south. The latter was in constant rivalry with
the dukes of Savoy, especially for possession of French-speak
ing territories in the neighborhood of Lake Geneva. The ac
ceptance of Evangelical views by Bern on February 7, 1528
(ante, p. 363), led the Bernese government to further the in
troduction of the Reformation into these dependent districts
by encouraging the preaching of Guillaume Farel (1489-1565).
Farel was a native of Gap, in the French province of Dauphine.
As a student in Paris he came under the influence of the hu
manistic reformer, Jacques Le Fevre, of Etaples, and by 1521
was preaching under the auspices of the moderately reformatory
Guillaume Briconnet, bishop of Meaux. An orator of fiery ve
hemence, intense feeling, and stentorian voice, he soon was so
preaching the Reformation that he had to leave France. By
1524 he was urging reform in Basel, but his impetuosity led
to his expulsion.
The next months were a period of wandering, during which
Farel visited Strassburg and won Butzer's friendship; but, in
November, 1526, his work in French-speaking Switzerland
began in Aigle, where the Bernese government defended him,
though not yet itself fully committed to the Reformation.1
With the complete victory of the newer views in Bern, Farel's
work went faster. In 1528 Aigle, Ollon, and Bex adopted the
^Kidd, pp. 477-481.
CONDITIONS IN GENEVA 387
| X
Reformation, destroying images and ending the mass.1 After
vainly attempting to invade Lausanne, he began a stormy
attack in Neuchatel, in November, 1529, which ultimately
secured the victory of the Reformation there.2 Morat fol
lowed in 1530;3 ^but in Grandson and Orbe, which, like Morat,
were under the joint overlordship of Protestant Bern and
Catholic Freiburg, he could secure only the toleration of both
forms of worship.4 A visit by invitation in September, 1532,
to a synod of the Waldenses in the high valleys of the Cottian
Alps resulted in the acceptance of the Reformation by a large
section of the body,5 and was followed in October by an
attempt, at first unsuccessful, to preach reform in Geneva.6
Everywhere Farel faced opposition with undaunted courage,
sometimes at the risk of life and at the cost of bodily injury,
but no one could be indifferent in his strenuous presence.
Geneva, at Farel's coming, was in the struggle of a revolu
tionary crisis. Situated on a main trade route across the
Alps, it was an energetic business community, keenly alive to
its interests and liberties, of rather easy-going moral standards,
in spite of its extensive monasteries and ecclesiastical founda
tions. Genevan liberties were being maintained with great
difficulty against the encroachments of the powerful duke of
Savoy. At the beginning of the sixteenth century three powers
shared the government of the city and its adjacent villages —
the bishop; his vicedominus, or temporal administrator; and the
citizens, who met annually in a General Assembly and chose
four "syndics" and a treasurer. Besides the General Assem
bly, the citizens were ruled by a Little Council of twenty-five,
of which the " syndics " of the year and of the year previous
were members. Questions of larger policy were discussed by
a Council of Sixty appointed by the Little Council, and in
1527 a Council of Two Hundred was added, its membership
including the Little Council and one hundred and seventy-five
others chosen by that inner body. The aggressive dukes of
Savoy had appointed the vicedominus since 1290, and had con
trolled the bishopric since 1444. The struggle was therefore
one for freedom by the citizens against Savoyard interests, rep
resented by the bishop and the vicedominus.
In 1519 the Genevan citizens made a protective alliance with
1 Kidd, pp. 481, 482. 2 Ibid., pp. 483-489. 3 Ibid., p. 489.
4 Ibid., pp. 489-491. 5 Ibid., pp. 491, 492. 6 Ibid., pp. 492-494.
388 FAREL IX GENEVA
Freiburg, but Duke Charles III of Savoy won the upper hand,
and the Genevan patriot Philibert Berthelier was beheaded.
Seven years later Geneva renewed the effort, this time enter
ing into alliance with Bern as well as Freiburg. In 1527 the
bishop, Pierre de la Baume, left the city, which he could not
control, and fully attached himself to the Savoyard interests.
The authority of the mcedominus was repudiated. Duke
Charles attacked the plucky city, but Bern and Freiburg came
to its aid in October, 1530, and he had to pledge respect to
Genevan liberties.1 Thus far there was little sympathy with
the Reformation in Geneva, but Bern was Protestant and was
anxious to see the Evangelical faith there established. Placards
criticising papal claims and presenting reformed doctrine were
posted on June 9, 1532, but Geneva's ally, Freiburg, was Cath
olic, and the Genevan government disowned any leanings
toward Lutheranism.2 In October following Farel came, as
has been seen, but could get no footing in the city. Farel
sent his friend Antoine Froment (1508-1581) to Geneva, who
found a place there as a schoolmaster, and propagated reformed
doctrine under this protection. On January 1, 1533, Froment
was emboldened to preach publicly, though the result was a
riot. By the following Easter there were enough Protestants
to dare to observe the Lord's Supper, and in December Farel
effectively returned. The Genevan government was in a diffi
cult position. Its Catholic ally, Freiburg, demanded that
Farel be silenced. Its Protestant ally, Bern, insisted on the
arrest of Guy Furbity, the chief defender of the Roman cause.3
Farel and his friends held a public disputation, and on March 1,
1534, seized a church. Under Bernese pressure the govern
ment broke the league with Catholic Freiburg. The bishop
now raised troops to attack the city. His action greatly
strengthened Genevan opposition, and on October 1, 1534, the
Little Council declared the bishopric vacant, though Geneva
was still far from predominantly Protestant.4
With the following year Farel, emboldened by the successful
result of a public debate in May and June, proceeded to yet
more positive action. On July 23, 1535, he seized the church
of La Madeleine, and on August 8 the cathedral of St. Pierre
itself. An iconoclastic riot swept the churches. Two days
1 Kidd, pp. 494-500. 2 Ibid., pp. 500-504.
3 Ibid,, pp. 504-508. 4 Ibid., pp. 508-512.
FAREL IN GENEVA 389
«
later the mass was abolished, and speedily thereafter the monks
and nuns were driven from the city. On May 21, 1536, the
work was completed by the vote of the General Assembly, ex
pressing its determination "to live in this holy Evangelical
law and word of God." *• Meanwhile the duke of Savoy had
been pressing Geneva sorely, but Bern came at last powerfully
to its aid in January, 1536. Geneva saw the peril from Savoy
removed, only to have danger arise of falling under Bernese
control. Yet the courage of its citizens was equal to the situ
ation, and on August 7, 1536, Bern acknowledged Genevan
independence.2 The courageous city was now free, and had
accepted Protestantism, more for political than for religious
reasons. Its religious institutions had all to be formed anew.
Farel felt himself unequal to the task, and in July, 1536, he
constrained a young French acquaintance passing through the
city to stay and aid in the work. The friend was John
Calvin.3
SECTION VIII. JOHN CALVIN
John Calvin was born in Noyon, a city of Picardy, about
fifty-eight miles northeast of Paris, on July 10, 1509. His
father, Gerard Cauvin, was a self-made man, who had risen to
the posts of secretary of the Noyon bishopric and attorney for
its cathedral chapter, and possessed the friendship of the pow
erful noble family of Hangest, which gave two bishops to
Noyon in his lifetime. With the younger members of this
family John Calvin was intimately acquainted, and this friend
ship earned for him a familiarity with the ways of polite society
such as few of the reformers enjoyed. Through the father's
influence the son received the income from certain ecclesiastical
posts in and near Noyon, the earliest being assigned him before
the age of twelve. He was never ordained. Thus provided
with means, Calvin entered the University of Paris in August,
1523, enjoying the remarkable instruction in Latin given by
Mathurin Cordier (1479-1564), to whom he owed the founda
tion of a style of great brilliancy. Continuing his course with
special emphasis, as was then the custom, on philosophy and
dialectics, Calvin completed his undergraduate studies early in
1528. As a student he formed a number of warm friendships,
1 Kidd, pp. 512-519. 2 Ibid., pp. 519-521. j* Ibid., p. 544.
390 CALVIN'S STUDENT LIFE
notably with the family of Guillaume Cop, the King's physician,
and an eager supporter of humanism.
Calvin's father had designed him for theology, but by 1527
Gerard Cauvin was in quarrel with the Noyon cathedral chap
ter and determined that his son should study law. For that
discipline Calvin now went to the University of Orleans, where
Pierre de 1'Estoile (1480-1537) enjoyed great fame as a jurist,
and in 1529 to the University of Bourges, to listen to Andrea
Alciati (1493-1550). Humanistic interests, also, strongly at
tracted him, and he began Greek in Bourges with the aid of a
German teacher, Melchior Wolmar (1496-1561). He gradu
ated in law; but the death of his father, in 1531, left Calvin
his own master, and he now took up the study of Greek and
Hebrew in the humanist College de France, which King
Francis I had founded in Paris in 1530. He was hard at work
on his first book — his Commentary on Seneca's Treatise on
Clemency — which was published in April, 1532. It was a mar
vel of erudition, and marked no less by a profound sense of
moral values; but in it Calvin displayed no interest in the
religious questions of the age. He was still simply an earnest,
deeply learned humanist.
Yet it was not for want of opportunity to know the new doc
trines that Calvin was still untouched by the struggle. Hu
manism had done its preparatory work in France as elsewhere.
Its most conspicuous representative had been Jacques Le Fevre
of Staples (1455?-! 536), who made his home in the monastery
of St.-Germain des Pres in Paris, from 1507, for some years,
and gathered about him a notable group of disciples. Le Fevre
never broke or wished to break with the Roman Church, but
in 1512 he published a commentary on Paul's epistles, which
denied the justifying merit of good works, declared salvation
the free gift of God, and held to the sole authority of Scripture.
It was the study of a quiet scholar and aroused no sensation at
the time. Eleven years later, in 1523, he put forth a transla
tion of the New Testament. Among his pupils were Guillaume
Briconnet (1470-1534), from 1516 bishop of Meaux; Guillaume
Bude (1467-1540), to whose persuasions the establishment of.
the College de France by royal authority was due; Francois
Vatable (?-1547), Calvin's teacher of Hebrew on that founda
tion; Gerard Roussel (1500?-1550), Calvin's friend, later
bishop of Oloron; Louis de Berquin (1490-1529), to die at the
CALVIN'S CONVERSION 391
<
stake for his Protestantism; and Guillaume Farel, whose fiery
reformatory career has already been noted. With these men
of reformatory impulse, none of whom, save the two last men
tioned, broke with the Roman Church, many humanists sym
pathized, such as the family of Cop, whose friendship Calvin
enjoyed in Paris. They had powerful support in King Fran
cis's gifted and popular sister, Marguerite d'Angouleme (1492-
1549), from 1527 Queen of Navarre, who was ultimately an
unavowed Protestant. Luther's books early penetrated into
France and were read in this circle. Few of its members real
ized, however, the gravity of the situation or were ready to
pay the full price of reform; but there was no ignorance of
what the main questions were in the scholarly circle in which
Calvin moved. They had not as yet become important for
him.
Between the publication of his Commentary on Seneca's
Treatise on Clemency in the spring of 1532 and the autumn of
1533 Calvin experienced a "sudden conversion." 1 Of its cir
cumstances nothing is certainly known, but its central experi
ence was that God spoke to him through the Scriptures and
God's will must be obeyed. Religion had henceforth the first
place in his thoughts. How far he even yet thought of break
ing with the Roman Church is doubtful. He was still a mem
ber of the humanistic circle in Paris, of which Roussel and his
intimate friend Nicolas Cop were leaders.2 On November 1,
1533, Cop delivered an inaugural address as newly elected rec
tor of the University of Paris, in which he pleaded for reform,
using language borrowed from Erasmus and Luther.3 That
Calvin wrote the oration as has often been alleged, is improba
ble, but he undoubtedly sympathized with its sentiments. The
commotion aroused was great, and King Francis enjoined ac
tion against the "Lutherans." 4 Cop and Calvin had to seek
safety, which Calvin found in the home of a friend, Louis du
Tillet, in Angouleme. Calvin's sense of the necessity of sepa
ration from the older communion was now rapidly developing,
and forced him to go to Noyon to resign his benefices on May
4, 1534. Here he was for a brief time imprisoned. Though
soon released, France was too perilous for him, especially after
Antoine Marcourt posted his injudicious theses against the
1 Kidd, pp. 523, 524. 2 Ibid., pp. 524, 525.
3 Ibid., pp. 525, 526. 4 Ibid., pp. 526-528.
392 CALVIN'S INSTITUTES
mass in October, 1534,1 and by about New Year's following
Calvin was safely in Protestant Basel.
Marcourt's placards had been followed by a sharp renewal
of persecution, one of the victims being Calvin's friend the
Parisian merchant, Estienne de la Forge. Francis I was co
quetting for the aid of German Protestants against Charles V,
and therefore, to justify French persecutions, issued a public
letter in February, 1535, charging French Protestantism with
anarchistic aims such as no government could bear. Calvin
felt that he must defend his slandered fellow believers. He
therefore rapidly completed a work begun in Angouleme, and
published it in March, 1536, as his Institutes, prefacing it with
a letter to the French King. The letter is one of the literary
masterpieces of the Reformation age. Courteous and digni
fied, it is a tremendously forceful presentation of the Protestant
position and defense of its holders against the royal slanders.
No French Protestant had yet spoken with such clearness, re
straint, and power, and with it its author of twenty-six years
stepped at once into the leadership of French Protestantism.2
The Institutes themselves, to which this letter was prefixed,
were, as published in 1536, far from the extensive treatise into
which they were to grow in Calvin's final edition of 1559 ; but
they were already the most orderly and systematic popular
presentation of doctrine and of the Christian life that the Ref
ormation produced. Calvin's mind was formulative rather
than creative. Without Luther's antecedent labors his work
could not have been done. It is Luther's conception of justifica
tion by faith, and of the sacraments as seals of God's promises
that he presents. Much he derived from Butzer, notably his
emphasis on the glory of God as that for which all things are
created, on election as a doctrine of Christian confidence, and
on the consequences of election as a strenuous endeavor after
a life of conformity to the will of God. But all is systematized
and clarified with a skill that was Calvin's own.
Man's highest knowledge, Calvin taught, is that of God and
of himself. Enough comes by nature to leave man without
excuse, but adequate knowledge is given only in the Scriptures,
which the witness of the Spirit in the heart of the believing
reader attests as the very voice of God. These Scriptures
teach that God is good, and the source of all goodness every-
1 Kidd, pp. 528-532. 2 Ibid., pp. 532, 533.
CALVIN'S THEOLOGY 393
«
where. Obedience to God's will is man's primal duty. As
originally created, man was good and capable of obeying God's
will, but he lost goodness and power alike in Adam's fall, and
is now, of himself, absolutely incapable of goodness. Hence
no work of man's can have any merit ; and all men are in a
state of ruin meriting only damnation. From this helpless
and hopeless condition some men are undeservedly rescued
through the work of Christ. He paid the penalty due for the
sins of those in whose behalf He died ; yet the offer and recep
tion of this ransom was a free act on God's part, so that its
cause is God's love.
All that Christ has wrought is without avail unless it becomes
a man's personal possession. This possession is effected by
the Holy Spirit, who works when, how, and where He will,
creating repentance; and faith which, as with Luther, is a vital
union between the believer and Christ. This new life of faith
is salvation, but it is salvation unto righteousness. That the
believer now does works pleasing to God is the proof that he
has entered into vital union with Christ. "We are justified
not without, and yet not by works." Calvin thus left room for
a conception of "works" as strenuous as any claimed by the
Roman Church, though very different in relation to the accom
plishment of salvation. The standard set before the Chris
tian is the law of God, as contained in the Scriptures, not as
a test of his salvation but as an expression of that will of God
which as an already saved man he will strive to fulfil. This
emphasis on the law as the guide of Christian life was peculiarly
Calvin's own. It has made Calvinism always insistent on char
acter, though in Calvin's conception man is saved to character
rather than by character. A prime nourishment of the Chris
tian life is by prayer.
Since all good is of God, and man is unable to initiate or re
sist his conversion, it follows that the reason some are saved
and others are lost is the divine choice — election and reproba
tion. For a reason for that choice beyond the will of God it is
absurd to inquire, since God's will is an ultimate fact. Yet to
Calvin election was always primarily a doctrine of Christian
comfort. That God had a plan of salvation for a man, indi
vidually, was an unshakable rock of confidence, not only for
one convinced of his own unworthiness, but for one surrounded
by opposing forces even if they were those of priests and Kings.
394 CALVIN'S THEOLOGY
It made a man a fellow laborer with God in the accomplishment
of God's will.
Three institutions have been divinely established by which
the Christian life is maintained — the church, the sacraments, and
civil government. In the last analysis the church consists of
"all the elect of God"; but it also properly denotes "the whole
body of mankind . . . who profess to worship one God and
Christ." Yet there is no true church "where lying and false
hood have usurped the ascendancy." The New Testament
shows as church officers, pastors, teachers, elders, and deacons,
who enter on their charges with the assent of the congregation
that they serve. Their "call" is twofold, the secret inclina
tion from God and the "approbation of the people." Calvin
thus gave to the congregation a voice in the choice of its officers
not accorded by any other Reformation party except that of
the Anabaptists, though circumstances at Geneva were to com
pel him to regard that voice there as expressed by the city
government. Similarly Calvin claimed for the church full and
independent jurisdiction in discipline up to the point of ex
communication. Further it could not go ; but it was a reten
tion of a freedom which all the other leaders of the Reformation
had abandoned to state supervision. Civil government has,
however, the divinely appointed task of fostering the church,
protecting it from false doctrine, and punishing offenders for
whose crimes excommunication is insufficient. It was essen
tially the mediaeval theory of the relations of church and state.
Calvin recognized only two sacraments — baptism and the
Lord's Supper. Regarding the burning question of Christ's
presence in the Supper, he stood, like Butzer, part way be
tween Luther and Zwingli, nearer the Swiss reformer in form,
and to the German in spirit. With Zwingli he denied any
physical presence of Christ ; yet he asserts in the clearest terms
a real, though spiritual presence received by faith. "Christ,
out of the substance of His flesh, breathes life into our souls,
nay, diffuses His own life into us, though the real flesh of Christ
does not enter us." 1
On the publication of the Institutes in the spring of 1536,
Calvin made a brief visit to the court of Ferrara, in Italy,
doubtless intending to advance the Evangelical cause with his
liberal-minded and hospitable fellow countrywoman, the Duch-
1 The quotations in these paragraphs are from the edition of 1559.
CALVIN'S EARLY WORK IN GENEVA 395
<
ess Renee. His stay was short, and a brief visit to France
followed; to settle his business affairs and to proceed to Basel
or Strassburg with his brother and sister. The perils of war
took him to Geneva in July, 1536, and there Farel's fiery ex
hortation, as has been seen (ante, p. 389), induced him to remain.
Calvin's work in Geneva began very modestly. He was a
lecturer on the Bible, and was not appointed one of the preach
ers till a year later. Over Farel, however, he exercised great
influence. Their first joint work was to aid the Bernese min
isters and civil authorities in the effective establishment of
the Reformation throughout Vaud and in Lausanne, which had
just come under Bernese control.1 In Lausanne, Pierre Viret
(1511-1571) was appointed pastor, an office which he was to
hold till 1559. With him Calvin was to enjoy close friendship.
Calvin and Farel now undertook to accomplish three results
in Geneva itself. In January, 1537, they laid before the Little
Council a series of recommendations from Calvin's pen.2
These proposed monthly administration of the Lord's Supper.
For better preparation, the city government should appoint
"certain persons" for each quarter of the city, who, in connec
tion with the ministers, might report the unworthy to the church
for discipline up to excommunication. This was Calvin's first
attempt to make Geneva a model community, and likewise to
assert the independence of the church in its own sphere. A
second effort was the adoption of a catechism composed by
Calvin, and a third the imposition on each citizen of a creed,
probably written by Farel.3 These recommendations the
Little Council adopted with considerable modification.
The success of Calvin's work was soon threatened. He and
Farel were unjustly charged with Arianism by Pierre Caroli,
then of Lausanne. They vindicated their orthodoxy easily,
but not till great publicity had been given to the matter.4 In
Geneva itself the new discipline and the demand for individual
assent to the new creed soon aroused bitter opposition. This
was strong enough to secure a vote of the Council of Two Hun
dred, in January, 1538, that the Supper should be refused to
no one, thus destroying Calvin's system of discipline.5 The
next month the opposition won the city election, and deter
mined to force the issue. The Bernese liturgy differed some-
1 Kidd, pp. 548-558. 2 Ibid., pp. 560-567. 3 Ibid., pp. 568-572.
4 Ibid., pp. 573-575. 5 Ibid., p. 577.
396 CALVIX IX STRASSBURG
what from that now established in Geneva. Bern had long
wished it adopted in Geneva, and the opposition now secured
a vote that it be used. Calvin and Farel regarded the differ
ences in Bernese and Genevan usage as of slight importance,
but an imposition by civil authority, without consulting the
ministers, they viewed as robbing the church of all freedom.
Calvin and Farel refused compliance, and on April 23, 1538,
were banished.1 Their work in Geneva seemed to have ended
in total failure.
After a vain attempt at restoration to Geneva by the inter
vention of Swiss Protestant authorities, Farel found a pastorate
in Xeuchatel, which was thenceforth to be his home; and Cal
vin, at Butzer's invitation, a refuge in Strassburg. The three
years there spent were in many ways the happiest in Calvin's
life. There he was pastor of a church of French refugees and
lecturer on theology. There he was honored by the city and
made one of its representatives in Charles V's reunion debates
between Protestants and Catholics (ante, p. 376), gaining
thereby the friendship of Melanchthon and other German re
formers. There he married, in 1540, the wife who was to be
his faithful companion till her death in 1549. There he found
time for writing, not merely an enlarged edition of the Insti
tutes, and his Commentary on Romans, the beginning of a series
that put him in the front rank of exegetes among the reformers,
but his brilliant Reply to Sadoleto, which was justly regarded
as the ablest of vindications of Protestantism generally.2
Meanwhile a political revolution occurred in Geneva for
which Calvin was in no way responsible. The party there
which had secured his banishment made a disastrous treaty
with Bern in 1539, which resulted in its overthrow the next
year and the condemnation of the negotiators as traitors.
The party friendly to Calvin was once more in power, and its
leaders sought his return. He was with difficulty persuaded,
but in 1541 was once more in Geneva, practically on his own
terms.3
Calvin promptly secured the adoption of his new ecclesias
tical constitution, the Ordonnances, now far more definite than
the recommendations accepted in 1537. In spite of his success
ful return, however, he could not have them quite all that he
1 Kidd, pp. 577-580. 2 Ibid., pp. 583-586.
3 Ibid., pp. 586-589.
CALVIN'S GENEVAN ORGANIZATION 397
wished. The Ordormanccft1 declare that Christ has instituted
in His church the four offices of pastor, teacher, elder, and
deacon, and define the duties of each. Pastors were to meet
weekly for public discussion, examination of ministerial can
didates, and exegesis, in what was popularly known as the
Congregation. The teacher was to be the head of the Geneva
school system, which Calvin regarded as an essential factor in
the religious training of the city. To the deacons were assigned
the care of the poor and the supervision of the hospital. The
elders were the heart of Calvin's system. They were laymen,
chosen by the Little Council, two from itself, four from the
Sixty, and six from the Two Hundred, and under the presi
dency of one of the syndics. They, together with the minis
ters, made up the Consistoire, meeting every Thursday, and
charged with ecclesiastical discipline. To excommunication
they could go; beyond that, if the offense demanded, they
were to refer the case to the civil authorities. No right seemed
to Calvin so vital to the independence of the church as this of
excommunication, and for none was he compelled so to struggle
till its final establishment in 1555. 2
Besides this task, Calvin prepared a new and much more
effective catechism,3 and introduced a liturgy, based on that
of his French congregation in Strassburg, which, in turn, was
essentially a translation of that generally in use in that German
city. In formulating it for Genevan use Calvin made a good
many modifications to meet Genevan customs or prejudices.4
It combined a happy union of fixed and free prayer. Calvin
had none of the hostility against fixed forms which his spiritual
descendants in Great Britain and America afterward mani
fested. It also gave full place to singing.
Under Calvin's guidance, and he held no other office than that
of one of the ministers of the city, much was done for educa
tion and for improved trade; but all Genevan life was under the
constant and minute supervision of the Consistoire. Calvin
would make Geneva a model of a perfected Christian com
munity. Its strenuous Evangelicalism attracted refugees in
large numbers, many of them men of position, learning, and
wealth, principally from France, but also from Italy, the
Netherlands, Scotland, and England. These soon became a
1 Kidd, pp. 589-603. 2 Ibid., p. 647.
3 Extracts, Kidd, pp. 604-615. 4 Kidd, pp. 615-628.
398 CALVIN'S CONFLICTS
very important factor in Genevan life. Calvin himself, and all
his associated ministers, were foreigners. Opposition to his
strenuous rule appeared practically from the first, but, by 1548,
had grown very serious. It was made up of two elements,
those to whom any discipline would have been irksome; and
much more formidable, those of old Genevan families who felt
that Calvin, his fellow ministers, and the refugees were for
eigners who were imposing a foreign yoke on a city of heroic
traditions of independence. That there was a party of relig
ious Libertins in Geneva, is a baseless tradition.
Calvin's severest struggle was from 1548 to 1555, from the
time that some of the older inhabitants began to fear that
they would be swamped politically by the refugees, till the
refugees, almost all of whom were eager supporters of Calvin,
achieved what had been dreaded, and made Calvin's position
unshakable. Constantly increasing in fame outside of Geneva,
Calvin stood in imminent peril, throughout this period, of hav
ing his Genevan work overthrown.
The cases of conflict were many, but two stand out with
special prominence. The first was that caused by Jerome
Hermes Bolsec, a former monk of Paris, now a Protestant
physician in Veigy, near Geneva. In the Congregation Bolsec
charged Calvin with error in asserting predestination. That
was to attack the very foundations of Calvin's authority,
for his sole hold on Geneva was as an interpreter of the Scrip
tures. If he was not right in all, he was thoroughly discredited.
Calvin took Bolsec's charges before the city government in
October, 1551. The result was Bolsec's trial. The opinions
of other Swiss governments were asked, and it was evident
that they attached no such weight to predestination as did Cal
vin. It was with difficulty that Calvin procured Bolsec's
banishment, and the episode led him to a more strenuous in
sistence of the vital importance of predestination as a Chris
tian truth than even heretofore.1 As for Bolsec, he ultimately
returned to the Roman communion and avenged himself on
Calvin's memory by a grossly slanderous biography.
Calvin was thus holding his power with difficulty, when in
February, 1553, the elections, which for some years had been
fairly balanced, turned decidedly in favor of his opponents.
His fall seemed inevitable, when he was rescued and put on
1 Kidd, pp. 641-645.
SERVETUS 399
l
the path to ultimate victory by the arrival in Geneva of Miguel
Servetus, whose case forms the second of those here men
tioned. Servetus was a Spaniard, almost the same age as
Calvin, and undoubtedly a man of great, though erratic, genius.
In 1531 he published his De Trinitatis Erroribus. Compelled
to conceal his identity, he studied medicine under the name of
Villeneuve, being the real discoverer of the pulmonary cir
culation of the blood. He settled in Vienne in France, where he
developed a large practice. He was working secretly on his
Restitution of Christianity, which he published early in 1553.
To his thinking, the Nicene doctrine of the Trinity, the Chal-
cedonian Christology, and infant baptism were the chief
sources of the corruption of the church. As early as 1545, he
had begun an exasperating correspondence with Calvin, whose
Institutes he contemptuously criticised.
Servetus's identity and authorship were unmasked to the
Roman ecclesiastical authorities in Lyons, by Calvin's friend,
Guillaume Trie, who, a little later, supplied further proof
obtained from Calvin himself. He was condemned to be
burned; though, before sentence, he had escaped from prison
in Vienne. For reasons hard to understand he made his way
to Geneva, and was there arrested in August, 1553. His con
demnation now became a test of strength between Calvin and
the opposition, which did not dare come out openly in defense
of so notorious a heretic, but made Calvin all the difficulties
that it could. As for Servetus, he had much hope for a favor
able issue, and demanded that Calvin be exiled and Calvin's
goods adjudged to him. The trial ended in Servetus's con
viction and death by fire on October 27, 1553. Though a few
voices of protest were raised, notably that of Sebastien Castellio
(1515-1563) of Basel, most men agreed with Melanchthon that
it was " justly done." However odious the trial and its tragic
end may seem in retrospect, for Calvin it was a great victory.
It freed the Swiss churches from any imputation of unortho-
doxy on the doctrine of the Trinity, while Calvin's opponents
had ruined themselves by making difficult the punishment of
one whom the general sentiment of that age condemned. '
Calvin's improved status was soon apparent. The elections
of 1554 were decidedly in his favor, those of 1555 yet more so.
In January, 1555, he secured permanent recognition of the
right of the Consistoire to proceed to excommunication with-
400 CALVIN'S SUCCESS AND INFLUENCE
out governmental interference.1 The now largely Calvinist
government proceeded, the same year, to make its position
secure by admitting a considerable number of the refugees to
the franchise. A slight riot on the evening of May 16, 1555,
begun by Calvin's opponents, was seized as the occasion of
executing and banishing their leaders as traitors. Henceforth
the party favorable to Calvin was undisputed master of Geneva.
Bern was still hostile, but the common danger to Bern and
Geneva when Emmanuel Philibert, duke of Savoy and victor
for Spain over the French at St.-Quentin in 1557, was enabled
to lay claim to his duchy, then mostly in possession of the
French, brought about a "perpetual alliance," in January, 1558,
in which Geneva stood for the first time on a full equality with
its ally, Bern. Thus relieved of the most pressing perils, at
home and abroad, Calvin crowned his Genevan work by the
foundation in 1559 of the "Genevan Academy" — in reality,
as it has long since become, the University of Geneva.2 It be
came immediately the greatest centre of theological instruction
in the Reformed communions, as distinguished from the
Lutheran, and the great seminary from which ministers in
numbers were sent forth not only to France but in less de
gree to the Netherlands, England, Scotland, Germany, and
Italy.
Calvin's influence extended far b<?yopd Geneva. Thanks to
his Institutes, his pattern of churcfcu^e'rfiment in Geneva, his
academy, his commentaries, and his constant correspondence,
he moulded the thought and inspired the ideals of the Protes
tantism of France, the Netherlands, Scotland, and the English
Puritans. His influence penetrated Poland and Hungary, and
before his death Calvinism was taking root in southwestern
Germany itself. Men thought his thoughts after him. His
was the only system that the Reformation produced that could
organize itself powerfully in the face of governmental hostility,
as in France and England. It trained strong men, confident
in their election to be fellow workers with God in the accom
plishment of His will, courageous to do battle, insistent on char
acter, and confident that God has given in the Scriptures the
guide of all right human conduct and proper worship. The
spiritual disciples of Calvin, in most various lands, bore one com
mon stamp. This was Calvin's work, a mastery of mind over
1 Kidd, p. 647. 2 Ibid., p. 648.
ENGLAND ON THE EVE OF THE REVOLT 401
I
mind, and certainly by the time of his death in Geneva, on May
27, 1564* he deserved the description of "the only international
reformer." l
Calvin left no successor of equal stature. The work had
grown too large for any one man to direct. But in Geneva,
and to a considerable extent in his labors beyond its borders, his
mantle fell on the worthy shoulders of Theodore Beza (1519-
1605), a man of more conciliatory spirit and gentler ways, but
devoted to the same ideals.
SECTION IX. THE ENGLISH REVOLT
In England the stronger Kings had long practically controlled
episcopal appointments, and such as were made directly by the
Pope were usually on some basis of agreement with the sover
eign. The chief political posts were filled by churchmen, partly
because few laymen could vie with them in learning or experi
ence, and partly because the emoluments of high churchly
office made such appointments inexpensive for the royal
treasury. Naturally, in such appointments, ability and use
fulness in the royal service were apt to be more valued than
spiritual fitness. Such was the state of affairs when Henry
VIII (1509-1547) began his reign. Some Wyclifianism existed
in humble circles and occasionally came under churchly censure.
Humanism had entereu T ,land and had found supporters in
limited groups among the educated. John Colet (1467 ?-1519),
ultimately dean of St. Paul's in London, had lectured in Oxford
on Paul's epistles, in full humanistic spirit, as early as 1496,
and refounded St. Paul's school in 1512. Erasmus had taught
in Cambridge from 1511 to 1514, having first visited England
in 1499, and he made many friends there. One of these was
the excellent John Fisher (1469?-1535), bishop of Rochester,
and another, the famous Sir Thomas More (1478-1535). Yet
there was little in the situation at the beginning of Henry VIII's
reign that made a change in the existing ecclesiastical situation
seem possible. One trait of the national life was conspicuous,
however, which was to be the basis of Henry VIII's support.
That was a strongly developed national consciousness — a
feeling of England for Englishmen — that was easily aroused to
opposition to all foreign encroachment from whatever source.
1 Kidd, p. 651.
402 HENRY VIII WISHES MARRIAGE ANNULLED
Henry VIII, who has been well described as a "tyrant under
legal forms," was a man of remarkable intellectual abilities and
executive force, well read and always interested in scholastic
theology, sympathetic with humanism, popular with the mass
of the people, but egotistic, obstinate, and self-seeking. In the
early part of his reign he had the support of Thomas Wolsey
(1475-1530), who became a privy councillor in 1511, and in
1515 was made lord chancellor by the King and cardinal by
Pope Leo X. Thenceforth he was Henry's right hand. When
Luther's writings were received in England their use was for
bidden, and Henry VIII published his Assertion of the Seven
Sacraments against Luther in 1521, which won from Leo X the
title "Defender of the Faith." At the beginning of his reign
Henry had married Catherine of Aragon, daughter of Ferdinand
and Isabella of Spain, and widow, though the marriage had been
one in name only, of his older brother, Arthur. A dispensation
authorizing this marriage with a deceased brother's wife had
been granted by Julius II in 1503. Six children were born of
this union, but only one, Mary, survived infancy. By 1527, if
not earlier, Henry was alleging religious scruples as to the valid
ity of his marriage. His reasons were not wholly sensual. Had
they been, he might well have been content with his mistresses.
A woman had never ruled England. The Wars of the Roses
had ended as recently as 1485. The absence of a male heir,
should Henry die, would probably causa civil war. It was not
likely that Catherine would have further children. He wanted
another wife, and a male heir.
Wolsey was induced to favor the project, partly from his sub
servience to the King, and partly because, if the marriage with
Catherine should be declared invalid, he hoped Henry would
marry the French princess, Renee, afterward duchess of Fer-
rara, and thus be drawn more firmly from the Spanish to
the French side in continental politics. Henry, however, had
other plans. He had fallen in love with Anne Boleyn, a lady
of his court. A complicated negotiation followed, in which
Wolsey did his best to please Henry, while Catherine behaved
with dignity and firmness, and was treated with cruelty. Prob
ably an annulment of the marriage might have been secured
from Pope Clement VII had it not been for the course of Euro
pean politics, which left the Emperor Charles V victor in war,
and forced the Pope into submission to the imperial policy
HENI^Y VIII BREAKS WITH ROME 403
(ante, p. 358). Charles was determined that his aunt, Cathe
rine, should not be set aside. Henry, angered at Wolsey's
want of success, turned on him, and the great cardinal died,
November 30, 1530, on his way to be tried for treason.
Henry now thought well of a suggestion of Thomas Cranmer
(1489-1556), then teaching -in Cambridge University, that the
opinions of universities be sought. This was done in 1530,
with only partial success; but a friendship was begun between
the King and Cranmer that was to have momentous con
sequences.
Favorable action from the Pope being now out of the ques
tion, Henry determined to rely on the national feeling of hos
tility to foreign rule, and his own despotic skill, either to break
with the papacy altogether, or to so threaten papal control
as to secure his wishes. In January, 1531, he charged the whole
body of clergy with breach of the old statute of Prcemunire of
1353 for having recognized Wolsey's authority as papal legate
— an authority which Henry himself had recognized and ap
proved. He not only extorted a great sum as the price of par
don, but the declaration by the convocations in which the
clergy met, that in respect to the Church of England, he was
"single and supreme Lord, and, as far as the law of Christ
allows, even supreme head." Early in 1532, under severe
royal pressure, Parliament passed an act forbidding the pay
ment of all annates to Rome save with the King's consent.1
In May following, the clergy in convocation agreed reluctantly,
not only to make no new ecclesiastical laws without the King's
permission, but to submit all existing statutes to a commission
appointed by the King.2 About January 25, 1533, Henry
secretly married Anne Boleyn. In February Parliament for
bad all appeals to Rome.3 Henry used the conditional prohibi
tion of annates to procure from Pope Clement VII confirmation
of his appointment of Thomas Cranmer as archbishop of Can
terbury. Cranmer was consecrated on March 30; on May 23,
Cranmer held court and formally adjudged Henry's marriage
to Catherine null and void. On September 7, Anne Boleyn
bore a daughter, the princess Elizabeth, later to be Queen.
While these events were occurring Clement VII had prepared
1 Gee and Hardy, Documents Illustrative of English Church History, pp.
178-186.
2 Ibid., pp. 176-178. 3 Ibid., pp. 187-195.
404 THE ROYAL SUPREMACY
a bull threatening excommunication against Henry on July 11,
1533. Henry's answer was a series of statutes obtained from
Parliament in 1534, by which all payments to the Pope were
forbidden, all bishops were to be elected on the King's nomina
tion, and all oaths of papal obedience, Roman licenses, and
other recognitions of papal authority done away.1 The two
convocations now formally abjured papal supremacy.2 In
November, 1534, Parliament passed the famous Supremacy
Act, by which Henry and his successors were declared "the
only supreme head in earth of the Church of England," without
qualifying clauses, and with full power to redress " heresies"
and "abuses."3 This was not understood by the King or
its authors as giving spiritual rights, such as ordination, the
administration of the sacraments and the like, but in all else
it practically put the King in the place of the Pope. The
breach with Rome was complete. Nor were these statutes in
any way meaningless. In May, 1535, a number of monks of
one of the most respected orders in England, that of the Car
thusians, or Charterhouse, were executed under circumstances
of peculiar barbarity, for denying the King's supremacy. In
June and July the two most widely known subjects of the
King, Bishop John Fisher and Sir Thomas More, distinguished
alike for character and scholarship, were beheaded for the
same offense.
For his work, Henry had found a new agent in Thomas
Cromwell (1485?-! 540), a man of very humble origin, a sol
dier, merchant, and money-lender by turns, of whom Wolsey
had made much use as business and parliamentary agent. By
1531 Cromwell was of the privy council; in 1534 master of the
rolls; and in 1536, layman that he was, viceregent for the King
in ecclesiastical affairs. Henry was hungry for ecclesiastical
property, both to maintain his lavish court and to create and
reward adherents — the Reformation everywhere was marked
by these confiscations — and late in 1534 he commissioned
Cromwell to have the monasteries visited and report on their
condition. The alleged facts, the truth or falsity of which is
still a disputed matter, were laid before Parliament, which in
February, 1536, adjudged to the King, "his heirs and assigns
forever, to do and use therewith his and their own wills," all
1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 201-232. 2 Ibid., pp. 251, 252.
pp. 243, 244.
RISE OF A PROTESTANT PARTY 405
I
monastic establishments having an income of less than two
hundred; pounds annually.1 The number thus sequestered
was three hundred and seventy-six.
Meanwhile Henry had been in part relieved from the danger
of foreign intervention by the death in January, 1536, of
Catherine of Aragon. He seems now to have wished to con
tract a marriage not open to the criticisms of that with Anne
Boleyn, of whom he was, moreover, tired. She was accord
ingly charged with adultery, in May, 1536, whether rightly
or wrongly is impossible to decide, though the accusation
seems suspicious, and on the 19th was beheaded. Two days be
fore Cranmer had pronounced her marriage to Henry null and
void. Eleven days later Henry married Jane Seymour, who
bore him a son, Edward, on October 12, 1537, and died twelve
days thereafter. Henry's deeds, especially the suppression of
the monasteries, aroused much opposition, notably in northern
England, with the result that a formidable insurrection, known
as the Pilgrimage of Grace, broke out in the summer of 1536,
but by the early part of the following year was effectually
crushed.
Though these changes in England were primarily those of
ecclesiastical politics rather than religious conviction, the dis
turbed state of the country gave opportunity for a real, though as
yet not numerous, Protestant party. In origin it seems to have
been more indigenous than imported, and to have followed more
at first the pathway shown by Wyclif than by Luther. Like
Wyclif, it looked to the state to reform the church, and viewed
the riches of the church as a hindrance to its spirituality. Hence
this party had little fault to find with Henry's assertions and
confiscations. Like Wyclif, it valued the circulation of the
Bible, and came more and more to test doctrine and ceremony
by conformity to the Scriptures. As the German revolt de
veloped, it came to feel more and more continental influences.
A conspicuous leader was William Tyndale (1492?-1536).
Eager to translate the New Testament, and unable to have it
published in England, he found refuge on the Continent in
1524, visited Luther, and published a really admirable transla
tion from the Greek in 1526. Churchly and civil authorities
tried to suppress it, but it was a force in spreading the knowledge
of the Scriptures. Tyndale himself died a martyr in Vilvorde,
1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 257-268.
406 HENRY'S OWN RELIGIOUS ATTITUDE
near Brussels, in 1536. Tyndale's friend, John Frith (1503-
1533), found refuge in Marburg, and thence returned to Eng
land, only to be arrested and burned in London in 1533 for
denying the doctrines of purgatory and transubstantiation. In
sympathy with these doctrinally reformatory views, though
varying in outward expression, were Cranmer, Nicholas Ridley
(1500?-! 555), Hugh Latimer (1490?-1555), and John Hooper
( ?-1555), all to be bishops, and all to die by fire for their faith.
As Henry's opposition to Rome developed, Protestant feeling
spread among laymen of , influence, a conspicuous instance
being the Seymour family, from which Henry had taken his
third Queen.
Henry's own religious attitude was that of Catholic ortho
doxy, save on the substitution of his own authority for that
of the Pope. His only departures from it were when dangers
of attack from abroad compelled him to seek possible political
support from the German Protestants, and he did not then go
far. Such an occasion occurred in the years 1535 and 1536.
He sent a commission to discuss doctrine in Wittenberg,
though it came to little. In 1536 Henry himself drafted Ten
Articles in which he made his utmost concession to Protestant
ism. The authoritative standards of faith are the Bible, the
Apostles', Nicene, and Athanasian creeds, and the "four first
councils." Only three sacraments are defined: baptism, pen
ance, and the Lord's Supper; the others are not mentioned
either in approval or denial. Justification implies faith in
Christ alone, but confession and absolution and works of
charity are also necessary. Christ is physically present in the
Supper. Images are to be honored, but with moderation.
The saints are to be invoked, but not because they "will hear
us sooner than Christ." Masses for the dead are desirable,
but the idea that the "bishop of Rome" can deliver out of
purgatory is to be rejected.
A more influential act of this time, instigated by Cranmer,
was that an English translation of the Bible, made up in large
part of Tyndale's version, but in considerable portion from the
inferior work of Miles Coverdale, was allowed sale in 1537, and
was ordered by Cromwell in 1538 to be placed accessible to
the public in each church.1 The Lord's Prayer and the ten
commandments were to be taught in English, the litany was
1 Gee and Hardy, p. 275.
HENRY'S RELIGIOUS POLICY 407
translated; but otherwise worship remained substantially un
changed In the Latin language and form while Henry lived.
Henry's work during these years had been free from for
eign interference, because Charles V and Francis I were at
war from 1536 to 1538. With the arrival of peace his dangers
greatly increased. The Pope demanded a joint attack by
France and Spain on the royal rebel. Henry's diplomacy and
mutual jealousies warded it off; but he took several steps of
importance to lessen his peril. He would show the world that
he was an orthodox Catholic save in regard to the Pope. Ac
cordingly, in June, 1539, Parliament passed the Six Articles
Act.1 It affirmed as the creed of England a strict doctrine of
transubstantiation, denial of which was to be punished by fire.
It repudiated communion in both bread and wine, and priestly
marriage. It ordered the permanent observation of vows of
chastity, enjoined private masses, and auricular confession.
This statute remained in force till Henry's death. It was not
enough, however, that Henry should show himself orthodox.
He was a widower, and Cromwell was urgent that he strengthen
his position by a marriage which would please the German
Protestants, and unite him with those opposed to the Emperor
Charles V. Anne of Cleves, sister of the wife of John Fred
erick, the Saxon Elector, was selected. The marriage took place
on January 6, 1540.
Meanwhile Henry had completed the confiscations of all the
monasteries in 1539.2 He was stronger at home than ever.
Francis and Charles were evidently soon to be again at war,
and the Emperor was beginning to court Henry's assistance.
German Protestants looked askance at his Six Articles, and he
now no longer needed their aid. Henry had regarded the mar
riage with Anne of Cleves as a mere political expedient. An
annulment was obtained in July, 1540, from the bishops on
the ground that the King had never given "inward consent"
to the marriage, and Anne was handsomely indemnified pe
cuniarily. For Cromwell, to whom the marriage was due, he
had no further use. A bill of attainder was put through
Parliament, and the King's able, but utterly unscrupulous,
servant was beheaded on July 28, 1540. These events were
accompanied by increasing opposition to the Protestant ele
ment, and this Catholic inclination was evidenced in Henry's
1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 303-319. 2 Ibid., pp. 281-303.
408 PROTESTANTISM IN POWER
marriage to Catherine Howard, niece of the duke of Norfolk,
shortly after his separation from Anne of Cleves ; but the new
Queen's conduct was open to question, and in February, 1542,
she was beheaded. In July, 1543, he married Catherine Parr,
who had the fortune to survive him. On January 28, 1547,
Henry died.
At Henry's death England was divided into three parties.
Of these, that embracing the great body of Englishmen stood
fairly with the late King in desiring no considerable change in
doctrine or worship, while rejecting foreign ecclesiastical juris
diction. It had been Henry's strength that, with all his
tyranny, he was fairly representative of this great middle party.
There were, besides, two small parties, neither fairly represen
tative — a Catholic wing that would restore the power of the
papacy, and a Protestant faction that would introduce reform
as it was understood on the Continent. The latter had un
doubtedly been growing, in spite of repression, during Henry's
last years. It was to be England's fortune that the two smaller
and unrepresentative parties should be successively in power
during the next two reigns, and that to religious turmoil agra
rian unrest should be added, owing to the great changes in
property caused by monastic confiscations, and even more to
enclosures of common lands by greedy landlords, and the im
poverishment of humbler tenants by the loss of their time-
honored rights of use.
Edward VI was but nine years of age. The government was,
therefore, administered in his name by a council, of which the
earl of Hertford, or, as he was immediately created, duke of
Somerset, was chief, with the title of Protector. Somerset
was the brother of the young King's mother, the short-lived
Jane Seymour. He was a man of Protestant sympathies, and of
excellent intentions — a believer in a degree of liberty in religious
and political questions in marked contrast to Henry VIII.
He was, also, a sincere friend of the dispossessed lower agricul
tural classes. Under his rule the new comparative freedom of
religious expression led to many local innovations and much
controversy, in which the revolutionary party more and more
gained the upper hand. In 1547 Parliament ordered the ad
ministration of the cup to the laity.1 The same year the last
great confiscation of church lands occurred — the dissolution of
1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 322-328.
THE PRAYER BOOK 409
I
the "chantries," that is, endowed chapels for saying masses.
The properties of religious fraternities and guilds were also
sequestered.1 The Six Articles were repealed. Early in 1548
images were ordered removed from the churches. The marriage
of priest was made legal in 1549.2
The confusion soon became great, and as a means at once of
advancing the reforms and securing order, Parliament, on
January 21, 1549, enacted an Act of Uniformity,3 by which
the universal use of a Book of Common Prayer in English was
required. This book, known as the First Prayer Book of Ed
ward VI, was largely the work of Cranmer, based on the older
English services in Latin, with some use of a revised Roman
breviary, published in 1535 by Cardinal Fernandez de Quinones,
and the Lutheranly inclined tentative Consultation of Hermann
von Wied, archbishop of Cologne, issued in 1543. In its
larger feature it is still the Prayer Book of the Church of Eng
land, but this edition preserved much of detail of older wor
ship, such as prayers for the dead, communion at burials,
anointing and exorcism in baptism, and anointing the sick,
which was soon to be abandoned. In the Eucharist the words
used in handing the elements to the communicant were the
first clause of the present Anglican form, implying that the
body and blood of Christ are really received.
Meanwhile, Somerset was beset with political troubles. To
counteract the growing power of France in Scotland he urged
the union of the two countries by the ultimate marriage of
King Edward with the Scottish Princess Mary, to be "Queen
of Scots," and supported his efforts by an invasion of Scotland
in which the Scots were terribly defeated, on September 10,
1547, at Pinkie, but by which his main purpose was frustrated.
The angered Scottish leaders hastened to betroth Mary to the
heir of France, the later Francis II, an event of prime signifi
cance for the Scottish reformation.
Somerset's fall came about, however, through causes credita
ble to himself. He realized the agrarian discontent, and be
lieved that efforts should be furthered to check enclosures.
In this he had the bitter opposition of the landowning classes,
of whom none were more greedy than the recent purchasers of
monastic property. Extensive risings took place in 1549.
They were put down with difficulty, largely by the efficiency of
'Gee and Hardy, pp. 328-357. *Ibid., pp. 366-368. Ubid., pp. 358-366.
410 SOMERSET AND NORTHUMBERLAND
the earl of Warwick. Thus in favor with the propertied classes,
Warwick headed a conspiracy which thrust Somerset from his
protectorate in October, 1549.
Warwick, or the duke of Northumberland as he later be
came, though never assuming the title Protector, was now the
most powerful man in England. The religious situation under
went rapid change. Somerset had been a man of great modera
tion, anxious to conciliate all parties. Northumberland was
without religious principles himself, but he pushed forward
the Protestant cause for political reasons, and the movement
now took on a much more radical character. Though ap
parently reconciled to Somerset, he distrusted the former
protector's popularity, and had Somerset beheaded in 1552.
His own greed, tyranny, and misgovernment made him cor
dially hated.
The Prayer Book of 1549 was not popular. Conservatives
disliked the changes. Protestants felt that it retained too
much of Roman usage. These criticisms were supported by a
number of foreign theologians of prominence, driven from Ger
many by the Interim, who found welcome in England, of whom
the most influential was Butzer of Strassburg. This hostility
was now able to be effective under the more radical policy of
Northumberland, and led to the revision of the Prayer Book,
and its reissue under a new Act of Uniformity in 1552.1 Much
more of the ancient ceremonial was now done away. Prayers
for the dead were now omitted, a communion table substituted
for the altar, common bread, instead of a special wafer, used in
the Supper, exorcism and anointing set aside, the priests' vest
ments restricted to the surplice, and what is now the second
clause of the Anglican form of the delivery of the elements
substituted, implying a doctrine looking toward the Zwinglian
conception of the Supper.
Cranmer had been engaged in the preparation of a creed,
which was submitted by order of the Council of Government
in 1552 to six theologians, of whom John Knox was one. The
result was the Forty-two Articles, which were authorized by
the young King's signature, June 12, 1553, less than a month
before his death. Though moderate for the period, they were
decidedly more Protestant in tone than the Prayer Book.
Unpopular as he was, Northumberland was determined to
1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 369-372.
MARY; THE ROMAN REACTION 411
I
maintain his power. Edward VI was visibly frail in body,
and Northumberland feared for his own life should Mary suc
ceed to the throne. The plan that he now adopted was desper
ate. He induced the youthful King to settle the succession
on Lady Jane Grey, wife of Northumberland's fourth son,
Guilford Dudley, and granddaughter of Henry VIIFs sister
Mary. Edward VI had no legal right so to do. He passed
by the claims of his half-sisters, Mary and Elizabeth, and of
Mary "Queen of Scots," whose genealogical title was better
than that of Lady Jane. To this wild plan Cranmer gave
reluctant consent. On July 6, 1553, Edward VI died.
Northumberland's plot failed completely. His unpopularity
was such that even the most Protestant portions of England,
such as the city of London, rallied to Mary. She was soon
safely on the throne and Northumberland was beheaded, de
claring on the scaffold that he was a true Catholic. Mary
proceeded with caution at first, guided by the astute advice of
her cousin the Emperor Charles V. Parliament declared her
mother's marriage to Henry VIII valid. The ecclesiastical
legislation of Edward VI's reign was repealed, and public wor
ship restored to the forms of the last year of Henry VIII.1
Cranmer was imprisoned. The Emperor saw in Mary's proba
ble marriage an opportunity to win England, and now proposed
his son Philip, soon to be Philip II of Spain, as her husband.
The marriage took place on July 25, 1554, and was exceedingly
unpopular, as threatening foreign control.
Reconciliation with Rome had thus far been delayed, though
bishops and other clergy of reformatory sympathies had been
removed, and many of the more earnest Protestants had fled
to the Continent, wrhere they were warmly received by Calvin,
though coolly treated by the Lutherans as heretical on the ques
tion of Christ's physical presence in the Lord's Supper. The
reason of this delay was fear lest the confiscated church proper
ties should be taken from their present holders. On intimation
that this would not be the papal policy, Cardinal Reginald
Pole (1500-1558) was admitted to England. Parliament voted
the restoration of papal authority, and on November 30, 1554,
Pole pronounced it and the nation was absolved of heresy.
Parliament now proceeded to re-enact the ancient laws against
heresy2 and to repeal Henry VIII's ecclesiastical legislation,
1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 377-380. 2 Ibid., p. 384.
412 EXECUTIONS UNDER MARY
thus restoring the church to the state in which it had been in
1529, save that former church property was assured by the
statute to its present possessors.1
Severe persecution at once began. Its first victim was John
Rogers, a prebendary of St. Paul's, who was burned in London
on February 4, 1555. The attitude of the people, who cheered
him on the way to the stake, was ominous for this policy ; but
before the end of the year, seventy-five had suffered by fire in
various parts of England, of whom the most notable were the
former bishops, Hugh Latimer and Nicholas Ridley, whose
heroic fortitude at their deaths in Oxford, on October 16,
created a profound popular impression. Another conspicuous
victim of this year was John Hooper, former bishop of Glou
cester and Worcester. Mary was determined to strike the high
est of the anti-Roman clergy, Archbishop Cranmer. Cranmer
was not of the heroic stuff of which Latimer, Ridley, Hooper,
and Rogers were made. He was formally excommunicated by
sentence at Rome on November 25, 1555, and Pole was shortly
after made archbishop of Canterbury in his stead. Cranmer
was now in a logical dilemma. He had asserted, since his
appointment under Henry VIII, that the sovereign is the
supreme authority in the English church. His Protestantism
was real, but that sovereign was now a Roman Catholic. In
his distress he now made submission declaring that he recog
nized papal authority as established by law. Mary had no
intention of sparing the man who had pronounced her mother's
marriage invalid. Cranmer must die. But it was hoped that
by a public abjuration of Protestantism at his death he would
discredit the Reformation. That hope was nearly realized.
Cranmer signed a further recantation denying Protestantism
wholly; but on the day of his execution in Oxford, March 21,
1556, his courage returned. He repudiated his retractions
absolutely, declared his Protestant faith, and held the offending
hand, which had signed the now renounced submissions, in the
flame till it was consumed. His dying day was the noblest of
his 'ife.
Philip had left England in 1555, and this absence, coupled
with her own childless state, preyed on Mary's mind, inducing
her to feel that she had not done enough to satisfy the judgment
of God. Persecution therefore continued unabated till her
JGee and Hardy, pp. 385-415.
ACCESSION OF ELIZABETH 413
death on November 17, 1558. In all, somewhat less than three
hundred were burned — a scanty number compared with the
toll of sufferers in the Netherlands. But English sentiment
deeply revolted. These martyrdoms did more for the spread
of anti-Roman sentiment than all previous governmental
efforts had accomplished. It was certain that the accession of
the next sovereign would witness a change or civil war.
Elizabeth (Queen 1558-1603) had long passed as illegitimate,
though her place in the succession had been secured by act of
Parliament in the lifetime of Henry VIII. Of all Henry's
children she was the only one who really resembled him in
ability, insight, and personal popularity. With a masculine
force of character she combined a curious love of personal adorn
ment inherited from her light-minded mother. Of real religious
feeling she had none, but her birth and Roman denials of her
mother's marriage made her necessarily a Protestant, though
under Mary, when her life had been in danger, she had con
formed to the Roman ritual. Fortunately her accession had
the support of Philip II of Spain, soon to be her bitterest en
emy. That favor helped her with English Catholics. Earnest
Roman as he was, Philip was politician enough not to wish to
see France, England, and Scotland come under the rule of a
single royal pair, and if Elizabeth was not Queen of England,
then Mary "Queen of Scots," wife of the prince who was in
1559 to become King Francis II of France, was rightfully
entitled to the English throne. In her first measures on acces
sion Elizabeth enjoyed, moreover, the aid of one of the most
cautious and far-sighted statesmen England has ever produced,
William Cecil (1521-1598), better known as Lord Burghley,
whom she at once made her secretary and who was to be her
chief adviser till his death. For Elizabeth it was a great ad
vantage also that she was thoroughly English in feeling,
and deeply sympathetic with the political and economic
ambitions of the nation. This representative quality recon
ciled many to her government whom mere religious considera
tions would have repelled. No one doubted that she put Eng
land first.
Elizabeth proceeded cautiously with her changes. Parlia
ment passed the new Supremacy Act,1 with much opposition,
on April 29, 1559. By it the authority of the Pope and all pay-
1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 442-458.
414 THE ELIZABETHAN SETTLEMENT
ments and appeals to him were rejected. A significant change
of title appeared, however, by Elizabeth's own insistence.
Instead of the old "Supreme Head," so obnoxious to the
Catholics, s j was now styled "Supreme Governor" of the
church in England — a much less objectionable phrase, though
amounting to the same thing in practice. The tests of heresy
were now to be the Scriptures, the first four General Councils,
and the decisions of Parliament. Meanwhile a commission
had been revising the Second Prayer Book of Edward VI (ante,
p. 410). The prayer against the Pope was omitted, as was the
declaration that kneeling at the Supper did not imply adora
tion, while the question of Christ's physical presence was left
intentionally undetermined by the combination of the forms
of delivery in the two Edwardean books (ante, pp. 409, 410).
These modifications were designed to render the new service
more palatable to Catholics. The Act of Uniformity1 now
ordered all worship to be conducted, after June 24, 1559, in
accordance with this liturgy, and provided that the ornaments
of the church and the vestments of its ministers should be
those of the second year of Edward VI.
The oath of supremacy was refused by all but two ob
scurer members of the Marian episcopate, but among the lower
clergy generally resistance was slight, the obstinate not amount
ing to two hundred. New bishops must be provided, and
Elizabeth directed the election of her mother's one-time chap
lain, Matthew Parker (1504-1575), as archbishop of Canter
bury. His consecration was a perplexing question; but there
were those in England who had received ordination to the
bishopric under Henry VIII and Edward VI. Parker was now
consecrated, on December 17, 1559, at the hands of four such-
William Barlow, John Scory, Miles Coverdale, and John Hodg-
kin. The validity of the act, on which the apostolic succession
of the English episcopate depends, has always been strongly
affirmed by Anglican divines, while attacked by Roman theo
logians, on various grounds, and declared invalid by Pope Leo
XIII in 1896, for defect in "intention." Thus inaugurated,
a new Anglican episcopate was speedily established. A defini
tion of the creed, other than implied in the Prayer Book, was
purposely postponed; but in 1563 the Forty-two Articles of
1553 (ante, p. 410) were somewhat revised, and as the famous
1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 458-467.
SCOTLAND BEFORE THE REFORMATION 415
Thirty-nine Articles, became the statement of faith of the
Church of England.1
Thus, by 1563 the Elizabethan settlement was accom
plished. It was threatened from two sides: from t^iat of Rome,
and, even more dangerously, from the earnest rerormers who
wished to go further and soon were to be nicknamed Puritans.
The remarkable feature of the English revolt is that it pro
duced no outstanding religious leader — no Luther, Zwingli,
Calvin, or Knox. Nor did it, before the beginning of Eliza
beth's reign, manifest any considerable spiritual awakening
among the people. Its impulses were _pplitical and social. A
great revival of the religious life of England was to come, the
earlier history of which was to be coincident with Elizabeth's
reign, but which was to owe nothing to her.
SECTION X. THE SCOTTISH REVOLT
At the dawn of the sixteenth century Scotland was a poor
and backward country. Its social conditions were mediaeval.
The power of its Kings was small. Its nobles were turbulent.
Relatively its church was rich in land, owning about one-half
that of the country, but churchly positions were largely used to
supply places for younger sons of noble houses, and much clerical
property was in the hands of the lay nobles. The weak mon
archy had usually leaned on the church as against the lay
nobility. Education was backward, though universities had
been founded in the fifteenth century in St. Andrews, Glas
gow, and Aberdeen. Compared with continental seats of learn
ing they were weak.
The determining motive of most of Scottish political history
in this period was fear of dominance or annexation by Eng
land, persuading it to link the fortunes of the land with those
of France. Three grievous defeats by the English — Flodden
(1513), Solway Moss (1542), and Pinkie (1547)— strengthened
this feeling of antagonism, but showed that even English superi
ority in force could not conquer Scotland. On the other hand,
Scotland in alliance with France was a great peril for England,
the more serious when England had broken with the papacy.
Therefore England and France both sought to build up parties
and strengthen factions favorable to themselves in Scotland.
1 Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, 111 : 487-516.
416 PROTESTANT BEGINNINGS. KNOX
On the whole the powerful family of Douglas was inclined
toward England, while that of Hamilton favored France.
France also had strong supporters in Archbishop James Beaton
(?-1539) of St. Andrews, the primate of Scotland, and his
nephew, Cardinal David Beaton (14947-1546), his successor
in the same see. Though King James V (reigned 1513-1542)
was nephew of Henry VIII, and his grandson, James VI, was to
become James I of England in 1603 and unite the two crowns
after the death of Elizabeth, James V threw in his fortunes with
France, marrying successively a daughter of Francis I, and, after
her death, Mary of Lorraine, of the powerful French Catholic
family of Guise. This latter union, so important in the history
of Scotland, was to have as its fruit Mary "Queen of Scots."
Some Protestant beginnings were early made in Scotland.
Patrick Hamilton (1504?-1528), who had visited Wittenberg
and studied in Marburg, preached Lutheran doctrine, and was
burned on February 29, 1528. The cause grew slowly. In
1534 and 1540 there were other executions. Yet, in 1543 the
Scottish Parliament authorized the reading and translation of
the Bible. It was but a temporary phase, due to English
influence, and by 1544 Cardinal Beaton and the French party
were employing strong repression. Chief of the preachers at
this time was George Wishart (1513?-! 546), who was burned by
Cardinal Beaton on March 2, 1546. On May 29 Beaton
himself was brutally murdered, partly in revenge for Wishart' s
death and partly out of hostility to his French policy. The
murderers gained possession of the castle of St. Andrews and
rallied their sympathizers there. In 1547 a hunted Protestant
preacher, apparently a convert and certainly a friend of Wish-
art, of no considerable previous conspicuity, took refuge with
them and became their spiritual teacher. This was John Knox,
to be the hero of the Scottish reformation.
Born in or near Haddington, between 1505 and 1515, Knox's
early career was obscure. He was certainly ordained to the
priesthood, but when Wishart was arrested he was with that
martyr, and prepared to defend him. French forces sent to
reduce the rebels in St. Andrews castle compelled its surrender,
and Knox was carried to France to endure for nineteen months
the cruel lot of a galley-slave. Released at length, he made
his way to England, then under the Protestant government
ruling in the name of Edward VI, became one of the royal chap-
KNOX'S LEADERSHIP 417
I
lains, and in 1552 declined the bishopric of Rochester. The
accession of Mary compelled his flight, in 1554, but the English
refugees whom he first joined in Frankfort were divided by
his criticisms of the Edwardean Prayer-Book,1 and he soon
found a welcome in Geneva, where he became an ardent dis
ciple of Calvin, and labored on the Genevan version of the
English Bible, later so valued by the English Puritans.
Meanwhile the English had alienated Scotland more than
ever by the defeat of Pinkie, in 1547. Mary "Queen of Scots"
had been betrothed to the heir to the French throne and sent
to France for safety in 1548, while her mother, the Guise,
Mary of Lorraine, became regent of Scotland in 1554.
To a large portion of the Scottish nobles and people this
full dependence on France was as hateful as any submission
to England could have been. Protestantism and national inde
pendence seemed to be bound together, and it was in this
double struggle that Knox was to be the leader. Knox now
dared to return to Scotland, in 1555, and preached for six
months; but the situation was not yet ripe for revolt, and
Knox returned to Geneva to become the pastor of the church
of English-speaking refugees there. He had, however, sowed
fruitful seed. On December 3, 1557, a number of Protestant
and anti-French nobles in Scotland entered into a covenant
to "establish the most blessed Word of God and His congre
gation" — from which they were nicknamed "The Lords of the
Congregation." 2 Additional fuel was given to this dissent
by the marriage of Mary to the French heir on April 24, 1558.3
Scotland now seemed a province of France, for should there
be a son of this union he would be ruler of both lands, and the
French grip was made doubly sure by an agreement signed by
Mary, kept secret at the time, that France should receive
Scotland should she die without heirs. Before 1558 was ended
Elizabeth was Queen of England, and Mary "Queen of Scots"
was denouncing her as an illegitimate usurper, and proclaiming
herself the rightful occupant of the English throne.
Under these circumstances the advocates of Scottish inde
pendence and of Protestantism rapidly increased and became
more and more fused into one party. Elizabeth, moreover,
could be expected to assist, if only for her own protection.
Knox saw that the time was ready. On May 2, 1559, he was
1 Kidd, p. 691. 2 Ibid., p. 696. 3 Ibid., p. 690.
418 THE SCOTTISH CHURCH
back in Scotland. Nine days later he preached in Perth. The
mob destroyed the monastic establishments of the town.1
This action the regent naturally regarded as rank rebellion.
She had French troops at her disposal, and both sides promptly
armed for combat. They proved fairly equal, and the result
was undecided. Churches were wrecked and monastic property
sacked, to Knox's disgust, in many parts of Scotland. On
July 10, 1559, Henry II of France died, and Mary's husband,
Francis II became King in his stead. French reinforcements
were promptly sent to the regent in Scotland. Matters went
badly for the reformers. At last, in January, 1560, English
help came. The contest dragged. On June 11, 1560, the re
gent died, but her cause perished with her. On July 6 a
treaty was made between France and England by which
French soldiers were withdrawn from Scotland, and Frenchmen
were debarred from all important posts in its government.
The revolution had triumphed through English aid, but with
out forfeiting Scottish national independence, and its inspirer
had been Knox.2 In this contest the Scottish middle classes
had first shown themselves a power, and their influence was
for the newer order.
The victorious party now pushed its triumph in the Scottish
Parliament. On August 17, 1560, a Calvinistic confession of
faith, largely prepared by Knox, was adopted as the creed of
the realm.3 A week later the same body abolished papal juris
diction, and forbad the mass under pain of death for the third
offense.4 Though the King and Queen in France refused their
approval, the majority of the nation had spoken.
Knox and his associates now proceeded to complete their
work. In December, 1560, a meeting was held which is re
garded as the first Scottish "General Assembly," in January
following the First Book of Discipline was presented to the
Parliament.5 It was a most remarkable document, attempt
ing to apply the system worked out by Calvin to a whole king
dom, though the Presbyterian system was far from thoroughly
developed as yet. In each parish there should be a minister
and elders holding office with the consent of the congregation.
Minister and elders constituted the disciplinary board — the
1 Kidd, p. 697. 2 Ibid., pp. 698-700.
3 Ibid., pp. 700, 704-707; Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, 3 : 437-479.
« Ibid., pp. 701, 702. ' /wdi> p> 707.
KNOX'S ECCLESIASTICAL SYSTEM 419
later " session " — with power of excommunication. In the larger
towns were to be meetings for discussion, out .of which " pres
byteries " were to grow ; over groups of ministers and congrega
tions were synods, and over all the "General Assembly." The
need of the times and the inchoate state of the church led to
two further institutions, "readers," in places where there were
no ministers or the work was large, and "superintendents,"
without spiritual authority, but with administrative right to
oversee the organization of parishes, and recommend minis
terial candidates. Besides these ecclesiastical features, the
Book sketched out notable schemes of national education
and for the relief of the poor. Knox would have church,
education, and poor supported from the old church property ;
but here the Book met the resistance of Parliament, which
did not adopt it, though many of the body approved. The
ecclesiastical constitution gradually came into force; but the
nobles so possessed themselves of church lands that the church
from relatively to the means of the country one of the richest
became one of the poorest in Christendom. This relative pov
erty stamped on it a democratic character, however, that was
to make the church of Scotland the bulwark of the people against
encroachments by the nobles and the crown.
All observances not having Scriptural authority were swept
away. Sunday was the only remaining holy day. For the
conduct of public worship Knox prepared a Book of Common
Order, sometimes called "Knox's Liturgy," which was ap
proved by the "General Assembly," in 1564.1 It was largely
based on that of the English congregation in Geneva, which
in turn was modelled on that of Calvin. It allowed, however,
even more use of free prayer, the forms given being regarded
as models, the strict employment of which was not obligatory,
though the general order and content of the service were definite
enough.
Knox was soon obliged to defend what he had gained. King
Francis II of France died on December 5, 1560, and in the
following August Mary returned to Scotland. Her position
as a youthful widow was one to excite a sympathy which her
great personal charm increased. She was no longer Queen
of France, and that element which had supported Protestant
ism not by reason of religion but from desire of national in-
* Kidd, pp. 708-715.
420 MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS
dependence might well think that the pressing danger of French
domination which had induced acquiescence in the religious
revolution had passed. Mary behaved, at first, with great
prudence. While she made no secret of her own faith, and
had mass said in her chapel to the furious disapproval of Knox,
who was now minister of St. Giles in Edinburgh, and admired
by the burghers of that city, she did not interfere in the re
ligious settlement effected in 1560. She strove to secure recog
nition as Elizabeth's heir to the English throne, a thing which
Elizabeth had no mind to grant. Mary had the sage advice
of her half-brother, James Stewart, later to be earl of Moray
(1531?-1570), who had been a leader of the "Lords of the
Congregation." She tried by personal interviews of great
skill to win Knox, but he refused any overture and remained
the soul of the Protestant party. Still the prospect darkened
for him. Mary won friends. The Protestant nobles were
divided. The mass was increasingly being used. Knox had
good reason to fear that Mary would give a Catholic King to
Scotland by marrying some great foreign prince. A marriage
with the son of Philip II of Spain was seriously discussed.
Even more alarming for the Protestant cause in Scotland and
England was Mary's actual marriage on July 29, 1565, to her
cousin, Henry Stewart, Lord Darnley (1545-1567), with whom
she had fallen in love. Darnley's claim to the English throne
stood next to that of Mary herself. He was popular with
English Catholics, and though he had passed as a Protestant
in England, he now avowed himself a Catholic. The marriage
increased Elizabeth's danger at home and strengthened the
Catholic party in Scotland. Moray opposed it, was driven
from court, and soon into exile, and Mary made much progress
in subduing, one after another, the Protestant lords who sym
pathized with Moray. She thus lost her wisest adviser.
Thus far Mary had acted fairly shrewdly, but Scottish Protes
tantism was now saved by Mary's mistakes and want of self-
control. Darnley was certainly disagreeable and vicious.
Her feelings for him changed. On the other hand, his jealousy
was roused by the favor which Mary showed to David Riccio,
an Italian whom Mary employed as a foreign secretary, and
who was looked upon by the Protestant lords as their enemy.
Darnley and a number of Protestant nobles, therefore, entered
into a plot by which Riccio was dragged from Mary's presence
MARY'S DOWNFALL 421
I
and murdered in the palace of Holy rood, on March 9, 1566.
Mary behaved with great cunning. Dissembling her anger at
the weak Darnley, she secured from him the names of his fellow
conspirators, outlawed those who had actually participated in
the deed, and took the others back into favor, of course with
the knowledge on their part that they were received on suffer
ance. On June 19, 1566, Mary and Darnley's son was born,
the future James VI of Scotland and James I of England.
Mary never seemed surer on the Scottish throne.
In reality Mary had never forgiven her husband, and she
was now thrown much with a Protestant noble, James Hep
burn, earl of Bothwell (1536?-1578), a rough, licentious, but
brave, loyal, and martial man, whose qualities contrasted with
those of her weak husband. Bothwell now led in a conspiracy
to rid Mary of Darnley, with how much share on the part of
Mary herself is still one of the disputed questions of history.
Darnley, who was recovering from smallpox, was removed by
Mary from Glasgow to a house on the edge of Edinburgh,
where Mary spent part of the last evening with him. Early
on the morning of February 10, 1567, the house was blown up,
and Darnley's body was found near it. Public opinion charged
Bothwell with the murder, and it widely believed, probably
with justice, that Mary also was guilty of it. At all events
she heaped honors on Bothwell, who succeeded in securing ac
quittal by a farce of a trial. On April 24, Bothwell met Mary
on one of her journeys and made her captive by a show of
force — it was generally believed with her connivance. He was
married, but he was divorced from his wife for adultery on
May 3, and on May 15 he and Mary were married by Protes
tant rites.
These shameless transactions roused general hostility in
Scotland, while they robbed Mary, for the time, of Catholic
sympathy in England and on the Continent. Protestants and
Catholics in Scotland joined forces against her. Just a month
after the wedding Mary was a prisoner, and on July 24, 1567,
she was compelled to abdicate in favor of her year-old son,
and appoint Moray as regent, while she was herself imprisoned
in Lochleven Castle. On July 29 John Knox preached the
sermon at James VFs coronation. With Mary's fall came the
triumph of Protestantism, which was now definitely established
by Parliament in December. Mary herself escaped from
422 KNOX AND MELVILLE
Lochleven in May, 1568, but Moray promptly defeated her
supporters, and she fled to England, where she was to remain,
a centre of Catholic intrigue, till her execution for conspiracy
against Elizabeth's life, in February, 1587.
Knox's fiery career was about over. On November 24, 1572,
he died, having influenced not merely the religion but the
character of the nation more than any other man in Scottish
history. Knox's work was to be taken up by Andrew Melville
(1545-1623), who had taught as Beza's colleague in Geneva,
from 1568 to his return to Scotland in 1574. He was the edu
cational reformer of the Universities of Glasgow and St. Andrews
and even more distinguished as the perfecter of the Presbyterian
system in Scotland and its vigorous defender against the royal
and episcopal encroachments of James VI, who compelled him
to spend the last sixteen years of his life in exile from his native
land.
SECTION XI. THE ROMAN REVIVAL
It has already been noted (ante, pp. 321-325) that a genera
tion before Luther's breach with Rome, Spain was witnessing
a vigorous reformatory work led by Queen Isabella and Car
dinal Ximenes. It combined zeal for a more moral and intelli
gent clergy, abolition of glaring abuses, and Biblical studies for
the learned, not for the people, with unswerving orthodoxy,
judged by mediaeval standards, and repression of heresy by
the inquisition. It was this movement that was to give life
and vigor to the Roman revival, often, though rather incor
rectly, called the Counter-Reformation. Outside of Spain it
had very little influence when Luther began his work. Indeed,
the decline of the Roman Church was nowhere more evident
than in the feebleness with which Protestant onslaughts were
met by the contemporaries of the first quarter century of the
great revolt, and the incapacity of the Popes themselves to
realize the real gravity of the situation, and to put their inter
ests as great churchmen above their concerns as petty Italian
princes. Though Adrian VI (1522-1523) exhibited a real,
though utterly ineffective, reformatory zeal, in the Spanish
sense, during his brief and unhappy pontificate, neither his
predecessor, Leo X (1513-1521), nor his successor, Clement VII
(1523-1534), was in any sense a religious leader, and the politi-
REFORM AND REVOLUTION IN ITALY 423
cal ambitions of the latter contributed materially to the spread
of Protestantism.
Yet there were those, even in Italy, who were anxious for
reform, though not for revolution. Such a group founded in
Rome about 1517 the "Oratory of Divine Love." Among its
leaders was Giovanni Pietro Caraffa (1476-1559), later to be
Pope Paul IV (1555-1559), of distinguished Neapolitan parent
age, who had lived for a number of years in Spain, and had
brought from there an admiration for the Spanish reformation,
though no love for the Spanish monarchy. Another member
was Jacopo . Sadoleto (1477-1547) ; and in -close sympathy,
though not one of the Oratory, was Senator Gasparo Contarini
(1483-1542) of Venice, who was still a layman. Of these,
Caraffa was of unbending devotion to mediaeval dogma, while
Contarini had much sympathy with Luther's doctrine of jus
tification by faith alone, though not with his rejection of the
ancient hierarchy. Pope Paul III (1534-1549), more alive
than his predecessors to the gravity of the situation, made
Contarini, Caraffa, Sadoleto, and the English Reginald Pole
(1500-1558) cardinals early in his pontificate, and appointed
them, with others, a commission on the betterment of the
church, which made a plain-spoken, but resultless, report in
1538.1
These men were far removed from really Protestant views.
But there were a considerable number whose sympathies led
them much further. In Venice they were particularly numer
ous, though they produced no real leader there. In that city
Bruccioli's Italian translation of the New Testament was
printed in 1530, and of the whole Bible in 1532. Ferrara's
hospitality, under Duchess Renee, has already been noted in
connection with Calvin (ante, p. 394). The most remarkable
of these groups was that gathered in Naples about Juan Valdes,
(1500?-1541), a Spaniard of high rank, employed in the ser
vice of Charles V and a man of devout, Evangelical mysticism.
From his disciple, Benedetto of Mantua, came about 1540 the
most popular book of this circle, The Benefits of Christ's Death.
Among his adherents were Pietro Martire Vermigli (1500-
1562), whose father had been an admirer of Savonarola, himself
prior of the monastery of St. Peter in Naples, destined to be
professor of Protestant theology in Strassburg and Oxford;
!Kidd, pp. 307-318.
424 IGNATIUS LOYOLA
and Bernardino Ochino (1487-1564), vicar-general of the
Capuchin order, later Protestant prebendary of Canterbury,
pastor in Zurich, and ultimately a wanderer for erratic opinions.
Another friend of this group was Caraffa's own nephew, Gal-
eazzo Caraccioli, marquis of Vico, later to be Calvin's intimate
associate in Geneva. These Italian Evangelicals were, however,
unorganized and without princely support, save very cautiously
in Ferrara, nor did they gain following among the common
people. In Italy they were an exotic growth; and the same
may be said of the very few Protestants who were to be found
in Spain.
Pope Paul III wavered for a time between the method of
conciliation advocated by Contarini, who took part in the re
union discussions in Regensburg (ante, p. 376) as papal legate,
and that of Caraffa, who urged stern repression of doctrinal
divergence, while advocating administrative and moral reform.
Eventually he decided for the latter, and his decision became
the policy of his successors. On Caraffa's urgent appeal Paul
III, on July 21, 1542, reorganized the inquisition, largely on the
Spanish model, on a universal scale,1 though of course its actual
establishment took place only where it had the support of
friendly civil authority. Before it, the feeble beginnings of
Italian Protestantism rapidly disappeared. One of the main
weapons of the Catholic Counter-Reformation was thus forged.
Much more important was a revival of missionary zeal which
the fresh genius of Spain contributed to kindle Catholic enthusi
asm. Viewed from any standpoint, Ignatius Loyola is one of
the master figures of the Reformation epoch. Inigo Lopez de
Recalde was born of a noble family in northern Spain in 1491.
After serving as a page at the court of Ferdinand, he became a
soldier. His intrepid firmness was exhibited when Pamplona
was besieged by the French in 1521, but he received there a
wound that made further military service impossible. During
his slow recovery he studied the lives of Christ, St. Dominic,
and St. Francis. Chivalrous ideals still lingered in Spain,
and he determined that he would be a knight of the Virgin.
Recovered, in a measure, he journeyed to Monserrat, and hung
his weapons on the Virgin's altar. Thence he went to Manresa,
where, in the Dominican monastery, he began those directed
visions which were afterward to grow into his Spiritual Ex-
1 Kidd, pp. 347-350.
THE JESUITS 425
ercises. The year 1523 saw him a pilgrim in Jerusalem, but
the Franciscans who were there maintaining the cross with
difficulty, thought him dangerous and sent him home.
Convinced that if he was to do the work he desired he must
have an education, Ignatius entered a boy's class in Barcelona,
and went rapidly forward to the Universities of Alcala and
Salamanca. A born leader, he gathered like-minded companions
with whom he practised his spiritual exercises. This aroused
the suspicion of the Spanish inquisition and his life was in
danger. In 1528, he entered the University of Paris, just as
Calvin was leaving it. There he made no public demonstra
tion, but gathered round himself a handful of devoted friends
and disciples — Pierre Lefevre, Francis Xavier, Diego Lainez,
Alfonso Salmeron, Nicolas Bobadilla, and Simon Rodriguez,
mostly from the Spanish peninsula. In the church of St.
Mary on Montmartre, in Paris, on August 15, 1534, these com
panions took a vow to go to Jerusalem to labor for the church
and their fellow men, or, if that proved impossible, to put them
selves at the disposition of the Pope. It was a little student
association, the connecting bond of which was love to God and
the church, as they understood it.
The year 1536 saw them in Venice; but Jerusalem was barred
by war, and they now determined to ask the Pope's direction.
Ignatius was beginning to perceive what his society might be
come. Italy had seen many military companies in earthly
service. His would be the military company of Jesus, bound
by a similar strictness of obedience, and a like careful, though
spiritual, exercise of arms, to fight the battle of the church
against infidels and heretics. In spite of ecclesiastical opposi
tion, Paul III was induced by the favorable attitude of Con-
tarini and the skill of Ignatius to authorize the company on
September 27, 1540.1 The constitution of the society was as
yet indefinite, save that it was to have a head to whom full
obedience was due, and should labor wherever that head and
the Pope should direct. In April, 1541, Ignatius was chosen
the first "general" — an office which he held till his death,
July 31, 1556.
The constitution of the Jesuits was gradually worked out,
indeed it was not completed till after Ignatius's death, though
its main features were his work. At the head is a "general,"
1 Kidd, pp. 335-340.
426 THE JESUITS
to whom absolute obedience is due; but who, in turn, is watched
by assistants appointed by the order, and can, if necessary,
be deposed by it. Over each district is a "provincial," ap
pointed by the "general." Each member is admitted, after a
careful novitiate, and pledges obedience to the fullest extent in
all that does not involve sin. His superiors assign him to the
work which they believe him best fitted to do. That that
work may be better accomplished the Jesuits are bound to no
fixed hours of worship or form of dress as are monks. Each
member is disciplined by use of Ignatius's Spiritual Exercises,
— a remarkable work, in accordance with which the Jesuit is
drilled in a spiritual manual of arms, by four weeks of intense
contemplation of the principal facts of the life and work of
Christ, and of the Christian warfare with evil, under the gui
dance of a spiritual drill-master. It was a marvellous instru
ment that Ignatius constructed, combining the individualism of
the Renaissance — each man assigned to and trained for his
peculiar work — with the sacrifice of will and complete obedience
to the spirit and aims of the whole. It stands as the very
antithesis of Protestantism.
Though the Jesuit society spread rapidly in Italy, Spain,
and Portugal, it was slower in gaining strong foothold in France
and Germany, but by the latter half of the sixteenth century
it was the advance-guard of the Counter-Reformation. Its
chief agencies were preaching, the confessional, its excellent
schools — not for the multitude, but for the well-born and
well-to-do — and its foreign missions. Under Jesuit influence
more frequent confession and communion became the rule in
Catholic countries; and, to aid the confessional, the Jesuit
moral practice was gradually developed, chiefly after Ignatius's
death, and especially in the early part of the seventeenth cen
tury, in a fashion that has aroused the criticism not only of
Protestants but of many Catholics. In estimating them
aright it should be remembered that these moral treatises do
not represent ideals of conduct, but the minima on which ab
solution can be given; and, also, that the Jesuit morality em
phasized the universal Latin tendency to regard sin as a series
of definite acts rather than as a state.
The nature of sin itself was minimized. That only is sin
which is done with a clear knowledge of its sinfulness and a full
consent of the will. Personal responsibility was undermined
THE COUNCIL OF TRENT 427
by the doctrine of " probabilism," by which a man could choose
what seemed to him the worse course if it had for it accepted
authority. "Mental reservation/' also, taught that men, for
ends that seemed good, were not bound to give the whole truth
on oath, or even a correct impression — a doctrine that more
than any other produced the common Anglo-Saxon Protestant
feeling that Jesuits were unscrupulous and untrustworthy.
Naturally a society thus international in character, the
members of which were bound to their officers by constant
letters and reports, speedily became a force in political life.
With the establishment of the world-wide inquisition and
the foundation of the Company of Jesus, the Council of Trent
must be classed as an important agency of the Counter-Refor
mation. That council had a checkered history. Earnestly
desired by Charles V, and reluctantly called by Paul III, it
actually met in Trent in December, 1545. In March, 1547,
the Italian majority transferred it to Bologna; but in May,
1551, it was back in Trent, where the Spanish minority had all
along remained. On April 28, 1552, it adjourned in conse
quence of the successful Protestant uprising under Moritz of
Saxony against the Emperor (ante, p. 381). Not till January,
1562, did it meet again, and it completed its work on December
4, 1563. The voting was confined to bishops and heads of
orders, without division by nations, as at Constance (ante, p.
308). The majority was therefore in Italian hands. That rep
resented the papal wish that definition of doctrine should pre
cede reform. On the other hand, the Spanish bishops, equally
orthodox in belief, stood manfully for the Emperor's desire that
reform should precede doctrine. It was agreed that doctrine
and reform should be discussed alternately, but all decisions
had to have the approval of the Pope, thus strengthening the
papal supremacy in the church. No voices were more influen
tial in the council than those of the Pope's theological experts,
the Jesuits Lainez, and Salmeron, and at a later stage, that of
the earliest German Jesuit, Peter Kanis, and their influence
steadily supported the anti-Protestant spirit.
The doctrinal decrees of the Council of Trent1 were clear
and definite in their rejection of Protestant beliefs, while often
indecisive regarding matters of dispute in mediaeval contro
versies. Scripture and tradition are equally sources of truth.
1 Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, 2 : 77-206.
428 REFORMS AND INCREASE OF ZEAL
The church alone has the right of interpretation. Justification
is skilfully defined, yet so as to leave scope for work-merit.
The sacraments are the mediaeval seven and defined in the
mediseval way. The result is ably expressed, but the church
had shut the door completely on all compromise or modifica
tion of mediseval doctrine.
Though the reforms effected by the council were far from
realizing the wishes of many in the Roman Church, they were
not inconsiderable. Provision was made for the public inter
pretation of Scripture in the larger towns. Bishops were bound
to preach and the parish clergy to teach plainly what is need
ful for salvation. Residence was required and pluralities
restrained. Seminaries for clerical training were ordered, and
better provision for the moral supervision of the clergy. Regu
lations were enacted to prevent clandestine marriages. A less
praiseworthy step was the approval of an index of prohibited
books, to be prepared by the Pope, following the example
set by Paul IV in 1559. It resulted in 1571 in the creation by
Pius V (1566-1572) of the Congregation of the Index, at
Rome, to censure publications.
From a Spanish theologian, influential at Trent, Melchior
Cano (1525-1560), came the ablest defense of the Roman posi
tion that had yet appeared, in his De Locis Theologicis Libri XII,
published three years after his death. Theology, he taught,
is based on authority. The authority of Scripture rests on the
sifting and approving power of the church, which determines
what is Scripture and what not; but as by no means all of
Christian doctrine is contained in the Scripture, tradition,
handed down and sifted by the church, is another authoritative
basis.
The middle of the sixteenth century witnessed a change in
the prime interest of the holders of the papacy. They were
still Italian temporal princes, but the concerns of the church
had now assumed the first place. With Paul IV (Caraffa,
1555-1559) the Counter-Reformation reached the papal
throne, with the result that many of the abuses of the curia
were done away. Rome was a more sombre, a much more
ecclesiastical, city than in the Renaissance, but the Popes were
now prevailingly men of strict life, religious earnestness, and
strenuous Catholicism.
The result of all these influences was that by 1565 Catholic
THE ROMAN REVIVAL 429
I
earnestness had been revived. A new spirit, intense in its
opposition to Protestantism, mediaeval in its theology, but
ready to fight or to suffer for its faith, was wide-spread. Against
this renewed zeal Protestantism not merely ceased to make new
conquests, its hold on the Rhineland and in southern Germany
was soon shaken in considerable measure. Catholicism began
to hope to win back all that it had lost.
This Catholic revival was also characterized by a large de
velopment of mystical piety, in which, as in so much else, Spain
was the leader. The chief traits of this religious life were self-
renouncing quietism — a raising of the soul in contemplation
and voiceless prayer to God — till a union in divine love, or in
ecstasy of inner revelation, was believe to be achieved. Often
ascetic practices were thought to aid this mystic exaltation.
Conspicuous in this movement were Teresa de Jesus (1515-1582)
of Avila and Juan de la Cruz (1542-1591) of Ontiveros, in Spain.
Francois de Sales (1567-1622), nominally bishop of Geneva, to
whose efforts the winning for Catholicism of the portions of
Savoy near Geneva was due, represented the same type of piety,
and it was spread in France by his disciple, Jeanne Francoise
Fremyot de Chantal (1572-1641). It was combined with ex
treme devotion to the church and its sacraments. It satisfied
the religious longings of more earnest Catholic souls, and the
church, in turn, recognized it by enrolling many of its exemplars
among the saints.
Catholic zeal went forth, in full measure, also, in the work
of foreign missions. These were primarily the endeavor of
the monastic orders, notably the Dominicans and Franciscans,
with whom from its foundation the Company of Jesus eagerly
shared in the labor. To the work of these orders the Chris
tianity of Southern, Central, and large parts of North America
is due. They converted the Philippines. Most famous of
these Roman missionaries was Ignatius's original associate,
Francis Xavier (1506-1552). Appointed by Ignatius mission
ary to India, at the request of King John III of Portugal, he
reached Goa in 1542 and began a career of marvellous activity.
In Goa he founded a missionary college, he preached through
out southern India, in 1549 he entered Japan and began a
work which had reached large dimensions, when its severe re
pression was undertaken by the native rulers in 1612. Xavier
died, in 1552, just as he was entering China. His work was
430 ROMAN MISSIONS
superficial, an exploration rather than a structure, but his
example was a contagious influence of far-reaching force. In
China the labor which Xavier had attempted was begun, in
1581, by the Jesuit Matteo Ricci (1552-1610), but his desire
to be "all things to all men," led him to compromise with an
cestor-worship, a relaxation which missionaries of other Catholic
orders strongly opposed. In India the converts were almost
entirely from outcasts or low-caste ranks. The Jesuit, Roberto
de' Nobili (1576?-1656), began a work for those of high caste
in Madura, in 1606, recognizing caste distinctions and other
wise accommodating itself to Indian prejudices. Its apparent
success was large, but its methods aroused criticism and ulti
mate prohibition by the papacy. Probably the most famous
experiment of Jesuit missions was that in Paraguay. Their
work there began in 1586. In 1610, they commenced gathering
the natives into "reductions," or villages, each built on a sim
ilar plan, where the dwellers were kept at peace and taught the
elements of religion and industry, but held in strict and semi-
childlike dependence on the missionaries, in whose hands lay
the administration of trade and agriculture. Greatly admired,
the system fell with the expulsion of the Jesuits, in 1767, and
has left few permanent results.
The rivalries of the several orders, and the more effective
supervision of missionary labors, induced Pope Gregory XV
(1621-1623) to found, in 1622, the Congregatio de Propaganda
Fide, by which the whole field could be surveyed and superin
tended from Rome.
SECTION XII. THE STRUGGLE IN FRANCE, THE NETHERLANDS,
AND ENGLAND
The rivalries of France and Spain, with their political and
military consequences, had made the growth of the Reforma
tion possible, and had facilitated the division of Germany be
tween Lutherans and Catholics recorded in the Peace of Augs
burg of 1555. Henry II (1547-1559) had succeeded Francis I
in France, and Charles V had transferred to his son Philip II
(1556-1598) the sovereignty of Spain, the Netherlands, and of
the Spanish territories in Italy ; but the old rivalry continued.
In war, however, Philip II at first proved more successful than
his father had been, and the battles of St. Quentin in August,
PROTESTANTISM IN DANGER 431
1557, and Gravelines in July, 1558, forced France to the Treaty
of Cateau-Cambresis of April 2, 1559. That treaty was a
reckoning point in the history of Europe. France abandoned
the long struggle for Italy. Spanish leadership was evidently
first in Europe, and had largely bound France to follow, or at
least not to oppose, its interests. Protestantism was confronted
by a much more politically united Catholicism than it had yet
met. The political head of that Catholicism was Philip II of
Spain, methodical, industrious, patient, and inflexibly deter
mined, who saw as his God-appointed task the extirpation of
Protestantism, and bent every energy to its accomplishment.
The next thirty years were to be the time of chief peril in the
history of Protestantism.
The point of highest danger was, perhaps, in the year 1559,
when after the death of Henry II, in July, the crown passed to
Francis II, whose wife was Mary "Queen of Scots," and by
her own claim Queen of England also. Yet even Philip's ar
dent Catholicism was not willing to see a combination so dan
gerous to Spain as that of France, Scotland, and England under
a single pair of rulers. He therefore helped Elizabeth, an action
which he must afterward have regretted (ante, p. 413).
Calvin's influence had increasingly penetrated France, and
French Protestants, or Huguenots, as they were known from
1557, multiplied in spite of severe persecution. By 1555 there
was a congregation in Paris. Four years later the number of
Huguenot Churches in France was seventy-two. That year,
1559, they were strong enough to hold their First General
Synod in Paris, to adopt a strongly Calvinistic creed prepared
by Antoine de la Roche Chandieu,1 and a Presbyterian consti
tution drawn from Calvin's ecclesiastical principles. Popular
estimate credited them with 400,000 adherents. Besides
these Huguenots of religion, most of whom were from the
economically oppressed and discontented artisan classes, the
party was soon strengthened by the accession of political
Huguenots.
The death of Henry II and the accession of Francis II left
the family of Guise, uncles of Francis's Queen, all powerful in
his court. The Guises were from Lorraine, and were looked
upon by many of the French nobility as foreigners. Strenu
ously Catholic, the two brothers, Charles (1524-1574), the
, Creeds of Christendom, 3 : 356-382.
432 GROWTH OF THE HUGUENOTS
"cardinal of Lorraine," was head of the French clergy as
archbishop of Rheims, while Francis (1519-1563), duke of
Guise, was the best soldier of France. Opposed to the Guise
family were the family of Bourbon, of whom the chief in rank
was Antoine of Vendome, titular King of Navarre, a man of
weak and vacillating spirit, and his much abler brother, Louis,
prince of Conde. Of the house of Chatillon, also opposed to
the Guise brothers, the leader was Gaspard de Coligny, known
as Admiral Coligny, a man of sterling character and devoted
to Calvinism. These high nobles were moved in large part by
opposition to the centralization of power in the King. They
represented thus the hostility of the old feudal nobility to royal
encroachment. Their interests and those of the humbler
middle-class Calvinists coincided in a desire that things in
France should not continue as they were. The first step
toward a revolution was taken when the badly planned " Con
spiracy of Amboise " in March, 1560, failed in its attempt to
capture the young King and to transfer the government to the
Bourbons. Conde would have been executed had it not been
for the death of Francis II on December 5, 1560.
The succession of Charles IX (1560-1574), brother of the
late King, brought a new party into the confused struggle.
The Guises lost much of their power at court, but were re
garded still as the head of Catholic interests in France, and
were in constant communication with Philip II of Spain. The
chief influence about the new sovereign, who was not yet
eleven, was now that of his mother, Catherine de5 Medici (1519-
1589), able and unscrupulous, determined to maintain the rights
of the crown by playing off the two great noble factions of France
against each other. She was aided by a statesman of broad and
conciliatory views, Michel de 1'Hopital (1505-1573), who be
came chancellor of France in 1560. Catherine now sought a
reconciliation of the factions, released Conde from prison, per
mitted a public discussion between Catholic and Protestant
theologians in Poissy, in September, 1561 — in which Beza took
part — and followed it, in January, 1562, with an edict per
mitting the Huguenots to assemble for worship except in
walled towns.
Rather than submit, the Catholic party determined to pro
voke war. On March 1, 1562, the body-guard of the duke of
Guise attacked a Huguenot congregation worshipping in
HUGUENOT WARS. THE NETHERLANDS 433
Vassy. Three savage wars followed between the Huguenots
and Catholics, 1502-15(53, 1567-1568, and 1568-1570, with
short truces between. Duke Francis of Guise wras murdered
by a Protestant assassin. Antoine, King of Navarre, and
Conde died of wounds. Coligny was left the head of the
Hugueriot cause. On the whole, the Huguenots held their
own, and jealousy of Spanish influence helped their cause, so
that in August, 1570, peace was made at St. Germain-en-Laye,
by which nobles were given freedom of worship, and two places
for services were permitted to the Huguenot common people
in each governmental division of France, while four cities were
put in Huguenot control as a guarantee.
The situation at this juncture was greatly complicated by
the course of events in the Netherlands. The sources of un
rest in that region were even more political and economic than
religious in their origin, though in the struggle religion assumed
a constantly increasing prominence. The Netherlands, which
had come to Philip II of Spain from his father, Charles V, in
1555, were a group of seventeen provinces, tenacious of local
rights, predominantly commercial and manufacturing, and dis
posed to resent all that interfered with existing customs or
disturbed trade. Lutheranism had early entered, but had
been largely displaced by Anabaptism among the lowest stratum
of the population, while by 1561 when the Belgic Confession
was drafted by Guy de Bray,1 Calvinism was winning converts
among the middle classes. The nobility was as yet hardly
touched, and in 1562 the total number of Protestants was
reckoned at only 100,000.
Charles V, though strenuously resisting the inroads of
Protestantism, had largely respected Netherlandish rights and
jealousies. Not so Philip II. He determined to secure politi
cal and religious uniformity there similar to that in Spain.
In 1559 he appointed his sister, Margaret of Parma, regent,
with an advisory committee of three, of which the leading
spirit was his devoted supporter, Cardinal Granvella (1517-
1586), bishop of Arras. This committee practically usurped
the power of the old councils of state, in which the high nobles
had shared. The next year Philip secured from the Pope a
reconstitution of the ecclesiastical geography of the Nether
lands, which had merit in that it freed the Netherlandish
1 Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, 3 : 383-436.
434 THE STRUGGLE IN THE NETHERLANDS
bishoprics from foreign ecclesiastical supervision, but aroused
jealousy, since the new prelates were Philip's nominees and had
places in the Parliament, or "States General," thus greatly
strengthening Spanish influence. Philip, moreover, used every
power to crush "heresy" — a course that was disliked by the
middle classes, because it hurt trade and drove workmen to
emigration. Nobles and merchants were, therefore, increas
ingly restive.
Chief among the opponents of these changes were three emi
nent nobles, William of Nassau, Prince of Orange (1533-1584),
born a Lutheran, but now, nominally at least, a Catholic, to
be the hero of Dutch independence; and the Catholic counts of
Egmont and Horn. They forced Granvella's dismissal in
1564. Philip now saw in them the chief hindrance to his
plans. He demanded the enforcement of the decrees of the
Council of Trent and a stricter punishment of heresy. A peti
tion of protest was circulated and presented to the regent on
April 5, 1566 — the nickname "Beggars" given to its signers on
that occasion becoming the name of the party of Netherlandish
freedom. Popular excitement was intense. Protestant preach
ing was openly heard, and in August, 1556, iconoclastic riots,
opposed by such men as William of Orange, wrecked hundreds
of churches.
To Philip these events were rebellion in politics and religion.
He therefore sent the duke of Alva (1508-1582), an able
Spanish general, to Brussels with a picked Spanish army and
practically as governor. His arrival in August, 1567, was fol
lowed by hundreds of executions, among them those of Egmont
and Horn. William of Orange escaped to Germany, and organ
ized resistance, but it was beaten down by Alva's skill. Alva,
however, completed the alienation of the mercantile classes,
in 1569, by introducing the heavy Spanish taxes on sales.
Meanwhile William of Orange was commissioning sea-rovers,
who preyed on Spanish commerce and found an uncertain
refuge in English harbors, where the English Government had
been driven into a more strenuous attitude of hostility to all
Catholic forces, of which Philip was chief, by the bull of deposi
tion, issued against Elizabeth by Pope Pius V on February
25, 1570.
In April, 1572, these sea-rovers captured Brill. The northern
provinces rose. William of Orange put himself at the head of
THE MASSACRE OF ST. BARTHOLOMEW 435
the movement. On July 15, the leading towns of Holland, Zea
land, Friesland, and Utrecht recognized him as Stadholder.
Meanwhile, since the peace of 1570, the Huguenots and the op
ponents of Spain in France had been working for a revival of
the older political policy, which made France the rival instead of
the ally of Spain. Immediate assistance to the Netherlandish
rebels, to be rewarded by accession of some territory to France,
was planned, and none favored it more than Coligny, whose
influence over Charles IX was now great. To emphasize the
reconciliation of parties in France, a marriage was arranged
between Henry of Navarre, the Protestant son of the late
Antoine of Bourbon, and Charles IX's sister, Marguerite of
Valois. For the wedding, on August 18, 1572, Huguenot and
Catholic nobles and their followers gathered in the fanatically
Catholic city of Paris.
Catherine de' Medici had come to look with fear on the in
fluence now exerted by Coligny over her son, the King.
Whether the cause was jealousy regarding her own influence,
or fear that the war into which Coligny was leading the King
would be disastrous to the French crown, is uncertain. Ap
parently all that she wanted at first was Coligny's removal
by murder. In this she had the hearty sympathy of Henry,
duke of Guise (1550-1588), the son of the murdered Francis,
who wrongly charged Coligny with responsibility for his father's
death. On August 22 an attempt on Coligny's life failed, and
its ill-success carried panic to Catherine. The Huguenots had
been alienated without being deprived of their leader. She
and her supporters now suddenly decided on a general massacre,
for which the Guise party and the fanatical people of Paris
furnished abundant means. On August 24, St. Bartholomew's
day, the bloody work began. Coligny was killed, and with
him a number of victims that has been most variously estimated,
reaching not improbably 8,000 in Paris, and several times that
number in the whole of France. Henry of Navarre saved his
life by abjuring Protestantism.
The news was hailed with rejoicing in Madrid and in Rome,
and rightly, if its moral enormity could be overlooked. It
had saved the Catholic cause from great peril. The policy of
France was reversed. Plans for interference in the Nether
lands were at an end. The desperate struggle for Nether
landish freedom was the consequence. Yet the Catholics did
436 THE LEAGUE. WAR IN THE NETHERLANDS
not gain in France what they hoped. The fourth, fifth, sixth,
and seventh Huguenot Wars, 1573, 1574-1576, 1577, 1580, ran
their course of destruction and misery, but the Huguenots were
not crushed. Charles IX died in 1574 and was succeeded
as King by his vicious brother, Henry III (1574-1589).
A division among the Catholics themselves was developing.
There had long been a considerable element which, while
Catholic in religion, felt that the protracted wars were ruining
the land and permitting foreign, especially Spanish, intrigue.
They believed that some basis of peace with the Huguenots
should be reached, and were known as the Politiques. On the
other hand, those who put religion first and were willing to
see France become a mere appanage of Spain, if thereby Catholi
cism could triumph, had been for some time organizing associa
tions in various parts of France to maintain the Roman Church.
In 1576 these were developed into a general " League," led by
Henry of Guise and supported by Spain and the Pope. Its
existence drove the Politiques more and more into alliance
with the Huguenots, who found their political head in Henry
of Navarre, he having reasserted his Protestant faith in 1576.
The massacre of St. Bartholomew shattered the hopes of
William of Orange for the speedy expulsion of Spain from the
Netherlands. The two years following were those of intens-
est struggle, of which William was the soul. Alva's generalship
seemed at first irresistible. Mons, Mechlin, Zutphen, Naarden,
and Haarlem fell before the Spanish forces; but Alkmaar they
failed to take, in October, 1573. Alva was recalled at his own
request, and was succeeded, in November, by Luis de Requesens
(1525?-! 576), under whom the Spanish policy was substantially
unchanged. But October, 1574, saw the successful end of the
defense of Leyden, and it was evident that the northern Nether
lands could not be conquered by the forces then available for
Spain. In 1576 Requesens died, and the Spanish troops
sacked Antwerp, an event which roused the southern provinces
to resistance. The new Spanish commander, John of Austria
(1545-1578), was able to effect little. Elizabeth aided the
revolted Netherlands from 1576. In September, 1577, William
was able to make a triumphal entry into Brussels. John of
Austria died, a disappointed man, in October, 1578; but he was
succeeded by his nephew, Alexander Farnese, duke of Parma
(1545-1592), a general and a statesman of commanding talents.
PROTESTANTISM IX THE NETHERLANDS 437
Matters went better for the Spanish cause. Parma played on
the jealousies of the Catholic south and the Calvinist north.
The former united in the League of Arras for the protection of
Catholicism in January, 1579; the latter replied the same
month by the Union of Utrecht. Protestants left the south for
the north by the thousands, many Catholics went southward.
Ultimately the ten southern provinces were saved by Parma
for Spain, and modern Belgium is his monument. The seven
northern states declared their independence of Spain in 1581,
and though much remained to be done before all dangers were
passed, their freedom was so strongly intrenched that not even
the murder of William of Orange, on July 10, 1584, by a fanatic
encouraged by Parma, could overthrow it.
During this struggle the Calvinistic churches of the Nether
lands had been shaping. The First National Synod had been
held outside of Netherlandish territory, in Emden, in 1571.
William of Orange had accepted Calvinism two years later.
In 1575 a university was established in Leyden, soon to be
famed for its learning in theology and the sciences. The Re
formed Church of the Netherlands ,was, like the Huguenot
Church of France, Presbyterian in constitution, though its
degree of independence of state control was long a matter of
controversy, and varied with the different provinces. The
severity of the struggle for national independence, the wish
to secure the aid of all who were friendly to it, and the mer
cantile spirit led the Protestant Netherlands to a larger degree
of toleration than elsewhere at the time in Christendom.
Catholics were not, indeed, allowed public worship or political
office, but they had right of residence and employment. To the
Anabaptists William of Orange granted in 1577 the first pro
tection in rights of worship that they anywhere received. This
degree of toleration, partial as it was, soon made the Nether
lands a refuge for the religiously oppressed and added to the
strength of the nation.
Yet the death of their wise leader, William of Orange, brought
great peril to the revolted Netherlands. They did not feel able
to stand alone, and offered their sovereignty first to Henry III
of France and then to Elizabeth of England. Both refused;
but Elizabeth sent her favorite, the earl of Leicester, in 1585,
with a small army. He now became governor-general, but
his rule was a failure, and he returned to England in 1587. It
438 ELIZABETH AND ENGLISH CATHOLICS
looked as if Parma's skilful generalship might reduce the
rebellious provinces; but, fortunately, Philip demanded his
attention for a larger enterprise. The Spanish King had de
termined on nothing less than the conquest of England.
At the beginning of her reign Philip had aided Elizabeth for
political reasons (ante, p. 413) but those reasons soon ceased to
apply, and Philip became her enemy, seeing in Elizabeth the
head of that Protestantism that it was his chief desire to over
throw. The early part of Elizabeth's reign had been surpris
ingly free from actual trouble from her Catholic subjects.
Mary " Queen of Scots " was the heir to the throne, however,
and a constant centre of conspiracy. In 1569 a Catholic re
bellion broke out in the north of England, aided by Spanish
encouragement. It was put down. In 1570 there followed the
papal bull declaring Elizabeth excommunicate and deposed.
In 1571, a wide-spread plot — that of Ridolfi — aiming at Eliza
beth's assassination was uncovered. Elizabeth was saved
by the new turn of French affairs just before the massacre of
St. Bartholomew (ante, p. 435) and the outbreak of the Nether
lands rebellion. Parliament answered by making attacks on
Elizabeth's person, orthodoxy, or title to the throne high trea
son. For the immediate present, however, England had com
parative peace. •'•«•*•
' During Elizabeth's early years the English Catholics had been
left by Rome and their fellow believers on the Continent with
surprisingly little spiritual aid or leadership. To remedy this
situation, William Allen (1532-1594), an able English exile
who became a cardinal in 1587, established a seminary in Douai,
in 1568, for training missionary priests for England. His
students were soon flocking to England. Their work was al
most wholly spiritual, but was looked upon with great hostility
by the English authorities. The situation was intensified
when, in 1580, the Jesuits began a mission under the leadership
of Robert Parsons (1546-1610) and Edmund Campion (1540-
1581). Campion was seized and executed, though he seems to
have intended no political movement. Not so Parsons. He
escaped to the Continent, won Allen for his plans, and began
a course of intrigue to bring about a Spanish invasion of Eng
land, a Catholic rising there, and the death or dethronement of
Elizabeth. His work was most unfortunate for his fellow Catho
lics. Most of the priests laboring in England are now known
THE SPANISH ARMADA 439
to have been free of traitorous designs; but it was not so under
stood, and the English authorities looked upon them all as
public enemies, and executed such as its spies could discover.
Their work preserved a Roman Church in England, but it was
carried on at frightful cost. Elizabeth now sent an army to
the Netherlands, in 1585 (ante, p. 437), while she encouraged a
semipiratical expedition under Sir Francis Drake, the same
year, which burned and plundered Spanish settlements on the
Caribbean and Gulf of Mexico.
In 1586, a new scheme was hatched against Elizabeth's life —
the Babington Plot — in which English spies discovered that
Mary "Queen of Scots" was personally involved. As a con
sequence, she was executed, on February 8, 1587, after a good
deal of wavering on the part of Elizabeth. Philip now deter
mined on an invasion of England. Its conquest would estab
lish Catholicism and his own mastery there, and make hopeful
the reduction of the rebellious Netherlands. For the work he
would collect a great fleet which could hold the North Sea,
while Parma brought over his seasoned soldiers from the
Netherlands. After infinite trouble, the "Great Armada"
got away from Spain on July 12, 1588. The enterprise had
appealed to the religious zeal of the nation and men of dis
tinction in unusual numbers had enlisted for it. In the estimate
of Europe generally it was believed invincible; but, in reality,
it was badly equipped and the sailors inefficient. Moreover,
the battle in which it was about to engage was a contest be
tween old and new naval tactics. The Spanish plan of battle
was that of grappling and boarding. Their guns were light and
few, their vessels slow, though large. England had developed
swifter ships, armed with far heavier guns, able to avoid grap
pling, and to punish the unwieldy Spaniards frightfully. On
July 21 the battle was joined off Plymouth. Then followed
a week of running fight up the Channel, culminating in a great
battle off Gravelines on the 28th. The Spanish fleet, hopelessly
defeated, fled north, to escape home around Scotland and Ire
land. Any crossing by Parma was impossible. While it is a
legend that the Armada was defeated by storms, it really fell
before the English gunnery and seamanship, though a week
later, on its retreat storms completed its wreck. England was
the rock on which Philip's plans of a victorious Catholicism had
shattered, and they had shattered for a cause which he could
440 THE LATER HUGUENOT STRUGGLES
scarcely have understood. In the contest, instead of the Catho
lic rising which he had anticipated in England, and which men
like Allen and Parsons had predicted, Catholics and Protes
tants had stood shoulder to shoulder as Englishmen against
Spain.
While Philip's larger hopes were thus crushed in 1588, he
held as tenaciously as ever to the plan of uprooting Protestant
ism in France. The death of Henry Ill's brother, the duke of
Anjou, in 1584, left the Huguenot Henry Bourbon of Navarre
prospective heir to the throne. To prevent this succession,
Philip and the League entered into a treaty, in January, 1585,
by which the crown should go to Henry of Navarre's uncle,
Charles, Cardinal Bourbon, on Henry Ill's death. In July,
1585, Henry III was forced by the League to withdraw all
rights from the Huguenots, and in September a bull of Sixtus
V (1585-1590) declared Henry of Navarre incapable of succeed
ing to the throne. The eighth Huguenot War was the result —
that known as the " War of the Three Henrys," from Henry III,
Henry of Guise, the head of the League, and Henry of Navarre.
Paris was entirely devoted to Henry of Guise. On May 12,
1588, its citizens compelled Henry III to leave the city. The
weak King saw no way to resist the demands of the League
and its imperious head and, on December 23, had Henry of
Guise treacherously murdered. Thirteen days later Catherine
de' Medici closed her stormy life.
Henry of Guise was succeeded in the leadership of the League
by his brother Charles, duke of Mayenne. Henry III now
made terms with Henry of Navarre, and the two were jointly
laying siege to Paris, when Henry III was murdered by a
fanatic monk, dying on August 2, 1589. But Henry of Navarre,
or as he now became, Henry IV of France (1589-1610), was still
far from secure on his new throne. A brilliant victory at
Ivry, in March, 1590, defeated the League, but Spanish troops
under Parma's able generalship prevented his capture of Paris
that year, and of Rouen in 1592. Not till after the death of
Parma, on December 3, of the year last named, was Henry IV
really master. And now, for purely political reasons, Henry
IV declared himself a Catholic, being received into the Roman
Church on July 25, 1593, though terms were not concluded with
the Pope till more than two years later. However to be criti
cised morally — and Henry's life, whether as a Protestant or as
THE HUGUENOTS 441
a Catholic, showed that religious principles had little influence
over his conduct — the step was wise. It gave peace to the dis
tracted land. < It pleased the vast majority of his subjects.
Nor did Henry forget his old associates. In April, 1598, the
Edict of Nantes was issued, by which the Huguenots were ad
mitted to all public office, public worship was permitted where-
ever it had existed in 1597, save in Paris, Rheims, Toulouse,
Lyons, and Dijon, and children of Huguenots could not be
forced to receive Catholic training. Certain fortified towns
were placed in Huguenot hands as guarantees.
The same year (1598), Philip II died, on September 13,
convinced to the end that what he had done was for the service
of God, but having failed in his great life effort to overthrow
Protestantism.
The Huguenot Churches now entered on their most prosper
ous period. Their organization was completed, and their
schools at Sedan, Saumur, Montauban, Nimes, and elsewhere
flourished. They were a political corporation within the state.
As such, they were opposed by the centralizing policy of Riche
lieu, Louis XIII 's great minister. In 1628, Rochelle was taken
from them, and their political semi-independence ended. By
the Edict of Nimes, in 1629, their religious privileges were pre
served, but they suffered increasing attack from Jesuit and
other Catholic influences as the century went on, till the revoca
tion of the Edict of Nantes, by Louis XIV, in 1685, reduced
them to a persecuted, martyr church, to be proscribed till the
eve of the French Revolution, and drove thousands of their
numbers into exile, to the lasting gain of England, Holland,
Prussia, and America.
SECTION XIII. GERMAN CONTROVERSIES AND THE THIRTY YEARS*
WAR
It was the misfortune of Lutheranism that it had no other
bond of union between its representatives in its several terri
tories than agreement in "pure doctrine," and that differences
in apprehension were regarded as incompatible with Christian
fellowship. The original Lutheran conception of a faith which
constitutes a new personal relationship between God and the
believing soul tended to shade off into a belief which, as Me-
lanchthon once defined it, is "an assent by which you accept
442 INTERNAL CONFLICTS OF LUTHERANISM
all articles of the faith." The result was a new Protestant
scholasticism.
Melanchthon, influenced by humanistic thought, gradually
moved from his original agreement with Luther to some em
phases different from those of his greater colleague. By 1527
he had lost sympathy with Luther's denial of human freedom
and had reached the conclusion that salvation is only possible
through the co-operant action of the will of man — a view to
which the name "synergism" is usually given. By 1535 he
was emphasizing good works, not as the price of salvation, but
as its indispensable evidence. Regarding the Lord's Supper he
came to feel that Luther had overemphasized Christ's physical
presence and, without quite reaching Calvin's position (ante,
p. 394), to hold that Christ is given "not in the bread, but with
the bread," that is, to lay stress on the spiritual rather than the
physical reception. These differences never made a breach
with Luther, partly because of Luther's generous affection for
his younger friend, and partly because of Melanchthon's cau
tion in their expression, though they made Melanchthon un
comfortable at times in Luther's presence during that reformer's
later years. They were to cause trouble enough in the Lutheran
communions.
One chief cause of bad feeling was Melanchthon's reluctant
consent to the Leipzig Interim, in 1548. To Melanchthon
many Roman practices then reintroduced were "non-essen
tials." To Matthias Flacius Illyricus and Nikolaus von Ams-
dorf, in the security of Magdeburg, nothing could be "non-
essential" in such a time (ante, p. 380). They attacked
Melanchthon bitterly, and perhaps he deserved some of their
blame. This strain was soon increased by the feeling of the
princes of the old deprived Saxon electoral line that Melanch
thon by remaining in Wittenberg, which now belonged to their
successful despoiler, Moritz, was guilty of desertion of a family
which had faithfully supported him; and they magnified the
school in Jena, making it a university in 1558, and appointing
Flacius to one of its professorships.
Other theological disputes arose. Andreas Osiander (1498-
1552) roused the opposition of all other Lutheran parties by
declaring, with Paul, that the sinner receives actual righteous
ness from the indwelling Christ, and is not simply declared
righteous. Georg Major (1502-1574) affirmed, in essential
GERMAN PROTESTANTISM DIVIDED 443
agreement with Melanchthon, the necessity of good works as
evidences of salvation. In 1552 he was bitterly assailed by
Amsdorf, who went so far as to assert that good works are a
hindrance to the Christian life. The same year saw a fierce
attack on Melanchthon's doctrine of the Lord's Supper by
Joachim Westphal (1510?-1574), as crypto-Calvinism, or Cal
vinism surreptitiously introduced. It is not surprising that
shortly before his death, which occurred on April 19, 1560,
Melanchthon gave as a reason for his willingness to depart, that
he might escape "the rage of the theologians."
The Protestant situation in Germany was soon after further
turmoiled by the victorious advance of Calvinism into the
southwest. Frederick III (1559-1576), the excellent Elector
Palatine, was led by studies of the discussions regarding the
Lord's Supper to adopt the Calvinist position. For his terri
tories the young theologians, Kaspar Olevianus (1536-1587),
and Zacharias Ursinus (1534-1583) prepared the remarkable
Heidelberg Catechism in 1562 — the most sweet-spirited and
experiential of the expositions of Calvinism.1 It was adopted
by the Elector in 1563. But Calvinism had no protection under
the Peace of Augsburg, of 1555, and not only Catholics but
Lutherans were soon protesting against its toleration.
The disputes in Lutheranism continued with great inten
sity. In 1573, Elector August of Saxony (1553-1586), having
assumed guardianship over the young princes of ducal Saxony,
where the foes of Melanchthon were supreme, drove out their
more radical representatives. Thus far electoral Saxony, with
its Universities of Wittenberg and Leipzig, had followed the
Melanchthonian or "Philippist" tradition. Now, in 1574, the
same Elector August, influenced by his wife, and by an anony
mous volume, believed he had discovered a heretofore unsus
pected Calvinist propaganda regarding the Lord's Supper, in
his own dominions. He had some of his principal theologians
imprisoned, and one even put to torture. "Philippism" was
vigorously repressed.
Yet this struggle gave rise, in 1577, to the last great Lutheran
creed — the Formula of Concord.2 Prepared by a number of
theologians, of whom Jakob Andrea? (1528-1590) of Tubingen,
Martin Chemnitz (1522-1586) of Brunswick, and Nikolaus
1 Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, 3 : 307-355.
2 Ibid., 3 : 93-180.
444 LUTHERAN ORTHODOXY
Selnecker (1530-1592) of Leipzig were chief, it was put forth,
after infinite negotiation, in 1580, on the fiftieth anniversary of
the Augsburg Confession, with the approving signatures of
fifty-one princes, thirty-five cities, and between eight and nine
thousand ministers. A number of Lutheran princes and cities
refused their approval ; but it undoubtedly represented the de
cided majority of Lutheran Germany. Not as extreme as
Flacius and Amsdorf, it represents the stricter Lutheran in
terpretation. It is minute, technical, and scholastic in marked
contrast to the freshness of the Augsburg Confession half a
century before. The period of Lutheran high orthodoxy had
begun, which was to have its classic exposition in 1622, through
the Loci Theologici of Johann Gerhard (1582-1637) of Jena.
Its scholasticism was as complete as any in the Middle Ages.
Under this repression, the Philippists turned increasingly to
Calvinism, and Calvinism made larger inroads in Germany.
To the Palatinate, Nassau was added in 1577, Bremen by 1581,
Anhalt in 1597, and part of Hesse in the same period. The
electoral house of Brandenburg, from which the present Ger
man imperial line is descended, became Calvinist in 1613,
though most of the inhabitants of Brandenburg remained
Lutheran. This transformation was often accompanied by
the retention of the Augsburg Confession. Yet though these
German "Reformed" churches became Calvinist in doctrine
and worship, Calvin's characteristic discipline found little
foothold among them.
Protestantism in Germany reached its flood-tide of territorial
advance about 1566. From that time it began to ebb. The
revived Catholicism of the Counter-Reformation became in
creasingly aggressive, led by the Jesuits and supported by ear
nest Catholic princes like the dukes of Bavaria. Divided Prot
estantism could not offer united resistance. In Bavaria, Duke
Albert V (1550-1579) vigorously applied the principle cujus
regio, ejus religio, to crush his Protestant nobility and people.
The abbot of Fulda similarly attempted the repression of
Protestantism in his territories in 1572. Successfully opposed
for a time, he effected his task in 1602. Similar Catholic res
torations were effected in the Protestantized territories be
longing to the archbishoprics of Mainz and Trier. Under
Jesuit leadership similar Catholic advances were made in other
bishoprics, the inhabitants of which had embraced Evangelical
PARTIES IN GERMANY 445
views. The archbishop of Cologne, Gebhard Truchsess, one
of the seven Electors, proposed to marry, in 1582, and em
braced Protestantism. Little help came to him. He was
forced from his strategically situated see, and the territory
fully restored to Catholicism. In Austria and Bohemia the
situation became steadily more unfavorable for Protestantism ;
and there as well as elsewhere in the empire the Jesuit propa
ganda gained many individual converts. It was aggressive
and confident of ultimate victory. The situation between
Protestants and Catholics was constantly strained.
An event of the years 1606-1607 markedly increased this
bitterness. The city of Donauworth was overwhelmingly
Protestant, yet Catholic monasteries had been there allowed.
A Catholic procession of 1606 was stoned. On imperial com
mand, Maximilian, the able Catholic duke of Bavaria (1597-
1651) occupied the city and began a repression of its Evangelical
worship. At the Reichstag of 1608 the Catholics demanded
the restitution of all ecclesiastical property confiscated since
1555. For this claim they had the strict letter of the law in
the Peace of Augsburg ; but many of these districts had become,
in the two generations that had elapsed, solidly Protestant in
population.
Under these circumstances a number of Protestant princes
formed a defensive "Union" on May 4, 1608, headed by the
Calvinist Elector Frederick IV of the Palatinate. To it Catho
lic princes, led by Maximilian of Bavaria, opposed a "League,"
on July 10, 1609. The strong Lutheran states of northern
Germany were unwilling to join the "Union/' nor was the
Emperor in the "League." Had Henry IV of France lived,
war would probably have broken out at this time; but his
assassination in 1610 and the uncertainty of the imperial suc
cession in Germany delayed it for a time.
Besides the bitter disputes between Catholics and Lutherans,
the condition of Germany was, in many ways, one of unrest.
Business was bad. The debased coinage caused great suffering,
the country was growing impoverished. The enforcement of
unity of belief in Protestant and Catholic territories alike was
damaging to the intellectual life of the people; while the
witchcraft delusion which cost thousands of lives, and was
equally entertained by Catholics and Protestants, was at its
worst between 1580 and 1620.
446 THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR
The actual outbreak of the Thirty Years' War came from
Bohemia. That then largely Protestant land had wrung from
its King, the Emperor Rudolf II (1576-1612), in 1609, a char
ter — the Majestdtsbrief — granting a high degree of toleration.
Rudolf was succeeded, both as Emperor and King, by his
feeble brother Matthias (King, 1611-1619; Emperor, 1612-
1619), but he was childless, and in 1617 his cousin, Ferdinand
of Styria, a strenuous representative of the Counter-Reforma
tion, succeeded in securing recognition as Matthias's successor
from the Bohemian estates. Catholic influences were aug
mented, and in May, 1618, a party of disaffected Protestants
flung the two Catholic regents representing the absent Mat
thias from a high window in Prague. This act put Bohemia
into rebellion and began the war. Its commencement was
favorable for the Bohemian insurgents, and in 1619, after the
death of Matthias, they elected the Calvinist, Frederick V
(1610-1632), Elector Palatine, their King. The same week
Ferdinand of Styria was chosen Emperor as Ferdinand II
(1619-1637).
Frederick found little support outside of Bohemia, and now
Maximilian of Bavaria and a Spanish force from the Nether
lands came to Ferdinand's assistance. Under the command
of a Walloon general, Jan Tzerklas, Baron Tilly (1559-1632),
this Catholic combination overwhelmed the Bohemian forces,
near Prague, on November 8, 1620. Frederick fled the land.
The Majestdtsbrief was annulled, the property of Bohemian
Protestants largely confiscated, to the great financial advantage
of the Jesuits, and the Counter-Reformation enforced with a
high hand in Bohemia, Moravia, and Austria. Among those
enriched by the acquisition of confiscated property was one
destined to play a great part in the further history of the war,
Albrecht von Wallenstein (1583-1634). The "Union" was
dissolved. A similar repression of Protestantism now took
place in Austria.
Meanwhile Spanish troops, under Spinola, had invaded the
Palatinate in 1620, and thither Tilly and the army of the
"League" soon followed. The land was conquered, Catholi
cism enforced, and Frederick's electoral title with a good share
of the Palatinate transferred to Maximilian of Bavaria in 1623.
Northwestern Germany, where many bishoprics had become
Protestant possessions since the Peace of Augsburg, was now
WALLENSTEIN 447
threatened with war, and the disasters to Protestantism which
had already happened aroused Protestant foreign powers.
Nothing effective was done, however, except by Christian IV
of Denmark, to whom England and the Protestant Netherlands
sent some slight aid. To the Emperor Ferdinand the enmity
of the Danish King seemed formidable, and he therefore turned
to Wallenstein to raise a new army as imperial commander-in-
chief. This remarkable adventurer, born a Protestant, was
nominally a Catholic, and now the richest noble of Bohemia.
A natural leader of men, he raised an army in which he asked
no questions of race or creed, but simply of capacity to fight,
and loyalty to himself. He soon had a force of great efficiency.
On April 25, 1626, Wallenstein defeated the Protestant army
under Ernst of Mansfeld, at the Dessau bridge over the Elbe,
following the beaten forces to Hungary, whither they retreated
in the vain hope of making effective stand in conjunction with
the Emperor's enemy, Bethlen Gabor, prince of Transylvania.
On August 27, 1626, Christian IV of Denmark was beaten by
Tilly and the army of the " League " at Lutter. These successes
were followed up by the Catholics in 1627 and 1628. Han
over, Brunswick, and Silesia were conquered, then Holstein,
Schleswig, Pomerania, and Mecklenburg. Wallenstein found
it impossible to capture the Baltic seaport of Stralsund, which
was aided by the Swedes, and thought it wise to make peace
before the able Swedish King, Gustavus Adolphus (1611-1632),
might interfere. Accordingly, Christian IV was allowed, by
a treaty of May, 1629, to keep his territories on condition of
no further share in German politics.
The Catholics had determined to reap the fruits of their
great victories. On March 6, 1629, an imperial "Edict of
Restitution" ordered the restoration to Catholic possession of
all ecclesiastical property which had come into Protestant hands
since 1552, the expulsion of Protestants from territories ruled
by Catholics, and no recognition of any Protestants save Lu
therans, thus depriving the Calvinists of any rights whatever.
The events of the next few years prevented its full execution,
but five bishoprics, a hundred monasteries, and hundreds of
parish churches were, for a time, thus transferred. Many
more would have been had Catholic success continued, and had
not the Catholics themselves quarrelled over the spoils. These
disputes, and the jealousy of the "League," headed by Maxi-
448 GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS
milian of Bavaria, by reason of the great increase in imperial
power which Wallenstein had effected, now led to a success
ful demand by the "League" that Wallenstein be dismissed.
In September, 1630, the Emperor was compelled to part with
his able general.
Even before Wallenstein's dismissal an event of prime im
portance had occurred, though its consequences were not im
mediately apparent. Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden with a
small army had landed on the German coast on June 26, 1630.
Two motives induced his interference in the war. He came
undoubtedly as a champion of the Protestant faith; but he
also desired to make the Baltic a Swedish lake, and he saw in
the imperial attacks on the German Baltic seaports an imme
diate danger to his own kingdom. Should they be held by
a hostile power, Sweden would be in great peril. Gustavus
soon succeeded in driving the imperial forces out of Pomerania ;
but he moved slowly, since he had no adequate allies. In
January, 1631, however, he entered into a treaty with France,
then under the masterful leadership of Louis XIII's great min
ister, Armand du Plessis, Cardinal Richelieu (1585-1642), by
which considerable financial subsidies were granted. Riche
lieu had resumed the historic hostility of France to the Habs-
burgs of Spain and Austria, and the ancient French policy of
aiding their enemies for the political advantage of the French
monarchy, even if those enemies were Protestants. Gus-
tavus's next important and difficult work was to secure the
alliance of Brandenburg, which, though Protestant, had been
imperialist, and of Saxony, which had been neutral. On May
20, 1631, Tilly captured Magdeburg, the inhabitants being
treated with brutal ferocity.
This loss of a great Protestant stronghold was followed by
an alliance in June between Gustavus and the Elector of Bran
denburg, and in August Saxony threw off its neutrality and
joined the Swedes. On September 17, 1631, Gustavus, with
little real help from the Saxons, won a great victory over
Tilly at Breitenfeld, close by Leipzig. The imperial power in
northern Germany crumbled, and the Swedish King marched
victoriously to the Rhine, establishing himself in Mainz, while
the Saxons took Prague. In his extremity, the Emperor called
on Wallenstein once more to raise an army, and in April, 1632,
that general was at the head of a redoubtable force.
DEATHS OF GUSTAVUS AND WALLENSTEIN 449
Gustavus now marched against Maximilian of Bavaria, de
feating Tilly in a battle near Donauworth, in which that com
mander was mortally wounded. Munich, the Bavarian capital,
had to surrender to the Swedish King. Meanwhile Wallen-
stein had driven the Saxons out of Prague, and marched to
meet Gustavus. For some weeks the two armies faced each
other near Nuremberg, but the fighting was indecisive, and
Wallenstein marched northward to crush Saxony. Gustavus
followed him, and defeated him at Liitzen, near Leipzig, on
November 16, 1632, in a fierce battle in which Gustavus was
slain. His work was enduring. He had made the Edict of
Restitution a dead letter in northern Germany, and his memory
is deservedly cherished by German Protestantism.
The control of Swedish affairs passed to the able chancellor,
Axel Oxenstjerna, though the most capable Protestant general
was now Bernhard of Saxe- Weimar (1604-1639). In Novem
ber, 1633, Bernhard captured the important south German
city of Regensburg, and opened the line of the Danube to
Protestant advance. Meanwhile Wallenstein had remained
comparatively inactive in Bohemia, partly jealous of large
Spanish forces which had been sent to southern Germany, and
partly intriguing with Saxony, Sweden, and France. Just what
he had in mind is uncertain, but the most probable supposition
is that he aimed to secure for himself the crown of Bohemia.
His failure to relieve Regensburg was the last straw in rousing
the suspicious hostility of the Emperor, and on February 25,
1634, he was murdered by his own soldiers as a result of imperial
intrigue.
On September 5 and 6, 1634, Bernhard and the Swedish
troops were badly defeated at Nordlingen, by combined imperial
and Spanish forces. In its way the battle was as decisive as
Breitenfeld nearly three years before. That had shown that
northern Germany could not be held by the Catholics; this
that southern Germany could not be conquered by the Protes
tants. The war ought now to have ended; on June 15, 1635,
peace was made at Prague between the Emperor and Saxony.
November 12, 1627, was taken as the normal date. All eccle
siastical properties should remain for forty years in the hands
of those who then held them, and their ultimate fate should be
decided by a court composed equally of Catholic and Protestant
judges. No mention was made of privileges for Calvinists.
450 THE PEACE OF WESTPHALIA
To this peace most of Protestant Germany agreed in the next
few weeks.
Yet no peace was to be had for the wretched land. For
thirteen years more the war continued as savagely as ever. Its
original aims were practically lost, and it became a struggle,
fought out on German soil with the aid of German parties, for
the aggrandizement of Spain, France, and Sweden, in which
France gained most. Ferdinand II was succeeded by his son,
Ferdinand III (1637-1657), but the change brought no real
alteration of the situation. Germany lacked men of real leader
ship, the only conspicuous exception being Frederick William
the "Great Elector" (1640-1688) of Brandenburg, but though
he succeeded in enlarging his territorial possessions, he was too
young largely to affect the course of the war.
At last, after infinite negotiation, the "Peace of Westphalia"
was made on October 27, 1648. Sweden was firmly settled on
the German shore of the Baltic. Most of Alsace went to France.
The long-existing independence of Switzerland was formally
acknowledged. Brandenburg received the archbishopric of
Magdeburg and the bishoprics of Halberstadt and Minden as
compensation for surrender of its claims on part of Pomerania
to the Swedes. Maximilian of Bavaria kept his title of Elector
and part of the Palatinate, while the rest of the Palatinate was
restored to Karl Ludwig, son of the unfortunate Frederick V,
for whom a new electoral title was created. More important
was the religious settlement. Here the ability of the "Great
Elector" secured the inclusion of the Calvinists who, with the
Lutherans, were regarded as one party as over against the
Catholics. German Calvinists at last secured full rights. The
Edict of Restitution was fully abandoned and the year 1624
taken as the norm. Whatever ecclesiastical property was
then in Catholic or Protestant hands should so remain. While
the power of a lay sovereign to determine the religion of his
subjects still remained, it was modified by a provision that
where divided religious worship had existed in a territory in
1624, each party could continue it in the same proportion as
then existed. Between Lutherans and Calvinists it was agreed
that the norm should be the date of the Peace, and that a change
of the lay ruler to one or the other form of Protestantism there
after should not affect his subjects. On the other hand, by
the insistence of the Emperor, no privileges were accorded to
Protestants in Austria or Bohemia.
RESULTS OF THE THIRTY YEARS' WAR 451
Neither side liked the Peace. The Pope denounced it. But
all were tired of the war, and the Peace had the great merit
of drawing tfye lines between Catholicism and Protestant
ism roughly, but approximately, where they really stood. As
such, it proved essentially permanent, and with it the period
of the Reformation on the Continent may be considered closed.
To Germany the Thirty Years' War was an unmitigated and
frightful evil. The land had been ploughed from end to end for
a generation by lawless and plundering armies. Population
had fallen from sixteen millions to less than six. Fields were
waste. Commerce" and manufacturing destroyed. Above all,
intellectual life had stagnated, morals had been roughened
and corrupted, and religion grievously maimed. A century
after its close the devastating consequences had not been made
good. Little evidence of spiritual life was manifested in this
frightful time of war; yet to it, in large part, and reflecting the
trust of heartfelt piety in its stress, belongs the work of perhaps
the greatest of Lutheran hymn-writers, Paul Gerhardt (1607-
1676). In its earlier years, also, lie the chief activities of that
strange and deep Protestant mystic, Jakob Bohme (1575-1624),
of Gorlitz.
SECTION XIV. SOCINIANISM
The Reformation age exhibited a number of departures from
traditional orthodoxy regarding the person and work of Christ.
Though not characteristic of Anabaptists, in general, their
earliest manifestation is to be found among such Anabaptists
as Denk and Haetzer (ante, p. 369) . Servetus's radical opinions
and tragic fate have already been noted (ante, p. 399), but
this ingenious thinker founded no school of disciples. The
chief anti-Trinitarians of the age came from Italy, where re
formed opinions took often radical form, and where the scepti
cism of the Renaissance and the criticism of the later schoolmen
often blended with Anabaptist readiness to see in the meaning
of Scripture other than the traditional interpretations. Such
Italian radicals were Matteo Gribaldi (?-1564), once professor
of law in Padua, whom Calvin drove from Geneva in 1559;
and Giovanni Valentino Gentile (1520?-! 566), who came to
Geneva about 1557, fled from punishment for his views there,
and, after a wandering career, was beheaded in Bern in 1566.
Of greater importance was Giorgio Biandrata (1515?-1588?),
452 SOCINIANISM
who spent a year in Geneva, but found it wise to leave for
Poland in 1558, serving as physician to the ruling families of
that land and of Transylvania, helping to found a Unitarian
communion in the latter region, which ultimately obtained legal
standing.
Those who were destined to give their name to the movement
were the two Sozzinis, uncle and nephew. Lelio Sozzini (Soci-
nus, 1525-1562) was of a prominent Sienese family and a student
of law. His opinions were at first Evangelical, and he lived for a
year, 1550-1551, in Wittenberg, enjoying Melanchthon's friend
ship. Among other Swiss cities, he was well received in Geneva,
and settled in Zurich, where he died. Servetus's execution
turned his attention to the problem of the Trinity, but his
speculations were not made public in his lifetime. His more
distinguished nephew Fausto (1539-1604) was in Lyons in 1561
and Geneva in 1562. Although already a radical and influenced,
though less than has often been represented, by his uncle's notes
and papers, Fausto conformed outwardly to the Roman Church
and lived from 1563 to 1575 in Italy. Thence he removed to
Basel, till he went to Transylvania, in 1578, at the instance of
Biandrata. The next year saw him in Poland, where he lived
till his death in 1604.
Thanks to the labors of Fausto Sozzini and others in Poland
the party gained considerable foothold, and expressed its belief
effectively in the Racovian Catechism, on which Fausto had
labored, published in 1605, in Rakow, the city from which it
took its name and in which these "Polish Brethren" had their
headquarters. The catechism is a remarkable combination
of rationalistic reasoning and a hard supernaturalism. The
basis of truth is the Scriptures, but confidence in the New Testa
ment is based primarily on the miracles by which its promulga
tion was accompanied and especially by the crowning miracle
of the resurrection. The New Testament, thus supernaturally
attested, guarantees the Old Testament. The purpose of both
is to show to man's understanding the path to eternal life.
Though there may be in them matters above reason, there
is nothing of value contrary to reason. The only faith that
they demand is belief that God exists and is a recompenser and
a judge. Man is by nature mortal and could not find the way
to eternal life of himself. Hence God gave him the Scripture
and the life and example of Christ. Christ was a man, but one
SOCINIANISM 453
who lived a life of peculiar and exemplary obedience, filled with
divine wisdom, and was therefore rewarded with a resurrection
and a kind of delegated divinity, so that He is now a hearer of
prayer. The Christian life consists in joy in God, prayer and
thanksgiving, renunciation of the world, humility and patient
endurance. Its consequences are forgiveness of sins and eter
nal life. Baptism and the Lord's Supper are to be retained as
commanded by Christ and possessing a certain symbolic value.
Man's essential freedom is asserted, and original sin and pre
destination denied.
The most successful portion of the Socinian polemic was its
attack on the satisfaction theory of the atonement, which the
reformers had universally accepted. Satisfaction is no demand
of God's nature. Forgiveness and satisfaction are mutually
exclusive conceptions. It is absolute injustice that the sins of
the guilty be punished on the person of the innocent. Christ's
death is a great example of the obedience which every Christian
should, if necessary, manifest; but that obedience was no
greater than He o^gj for Himself, and He could not transfer
its value to others. Could it be so transferred, in so far as a
man felt himself thereby relieved from moral effort for righteous
ness, character would thereby be weakened.
The relation of Socinianism to the later Scholasticism, es
pecially that of Scotus, is undoubted; but unlike that mediaeval
system, it rejected all authority of the church and found its
source in the Scriptures, interpreted by reason. It rebelled
against the prevailing views of human inability and total de
pravity. It did not a little to free religion from the bondage
of dogma and to favor the unprejudiced study of Scripture;
but it had almost no conception of what religion meant to Paul,
Augustine, or Luther — a new, vital personal relationship be
tween the believing soul and God through Christ.
Suppressed, largely through the efforts of the Jesuits in Po
land, Socinianism found some supporters in the Netherlands
and even more in England, where it was to have no little influ
ence.
SECTION XV. ARMINIANISM
The rigor of Calvinism produced a reaction, especially in
Holland, where humanistic traditions had never died out and
where Anabaptism was widely spread. It manifested itself
454 ARMINIUS
in an emphasis on the more practical aspects of religion, a dis
inclination toward sharp creedal definitions, and a more tolerant
attitude. Such a thinker was the Dutch scholar Dirck
Coornhert (1522-1590); but it came to its fullest expres
sion in the work of Jacobus Arminius (1560-1609) and his dis
ciples.
Arminius, whose relatives were killed in the Netherland strug
gle for independence, was educated by friends at the University
of Ley den, from 1576 to 1582. He was then sent to Geneva
at the expense of the merchant's guild of Amsterdam. In
1588, he entered on a pastorate in Amsterdam, winning distinc
tion as a preacher and pastor of irenic spirit. In 1603 he was
chosen to succeed the eminent Franz Junius (1545-1602), as
professor of theology in Leyden, where he remained till his
death. Though indisposed to controversy, he was appointed
in 1589 to reply to Coornhert and to defend the "supralapsa-
rian" position against two ministers of Delft. The discussion
last named had to do with the order of the divine purposes.
Did God "decree" election and reprobation, and then permit
the fall as a means by which the decree could be carried out
(supra lapsum)*? Or did He foresee and permit that man
would fall, and then decree election as the method of saving
some (infra lapsum)*! As he studied the questions involved,
Arminius came to doubt the whole doctrine of unconditional
predestination and to ascribe to man a freedom, which, however
congenial to Melanchthon (ante, p. 442), had no place in pure
Calvinism. A bitter controversy sprang up between Arminius
and his supralapsarian colleague in the university, Franz
Gomarus (1563-1641), and soon the Protestant Netherlands
were widely involved.
After Arminius's death, in 1609, the leadership of the party
was taken by the court preacher Johan Wtenbogaert (1557-
1644) and by Simon Episcopius (1583-1643), Arminius's friend
and pupil, and soon to be professor of theology in Leyden.
By them "Arminian" views were systematized and developed,
and both opposed the current emphasis on minutiae of doctrine,
viewing Christianity primarily as a force for moral transforma
tion. In 1610, they and other sympathizers to the number of
forty-one, at the instance of the eminent Dutch statesman,
Johan van Oldenbarneveldt (1547-1619), a lover of religious
toleration, drew up a statement of their faith called the "Re-
ARMINIANISM 455
monstrance," 1 from which the party gained the name " Re
monstrants." Over against the Calvinist doctrine of absolute
predestination,' it taught a predestination based on divine fore
knowledge of the use men would make of the means of grace.
Against; the doctrine that Christ died for the elect only, it
asserted that He died for all, though none receive the benefits
of His death except believers. It was at one with Calvinism
in denying the ability of men to do anything really good of
themselves — all is of divine grace. Hence the Arminians were
not Pelagians (ante, p. 185). In opposition to the Calvinist
doctrine of irresistible grace, they taught that grace may be
rejected, and they declared uncertainty regarding the Calvin
ist teaching of perseverance, holding it possible that men may
lose grace once received.
All the Protestant Netherlands were speedily filled with
conflict. The vast majority of the people were Calvinists,
and that view had the support of the Stadholder Maurice
(1588-1625). The Remonstrants were favored by Olden-
barneveldt, the leader of the province of Holland, and by the
great jurist and historian, the founder of international law,
Hugo Grotius (1583-1645). The dispute soon became involved
in politics. The Netherlands were divided between the sup
porters of "states rights," which included the wealthier mer
chant classes and of which Oldenbarneveldt and Grotius were
leaders, and the national party of which Maurice was the head.
The national party now wished a national synod to decide the
controversy. The province of Holland, under Oldenbarneveldt,
held that each province could decide its religious affairs and
resisted the proposal. Maurice, by a coup d'etat in July, 1618,
overthrew the "states-rights" party. Oldenbarneveldt, in
spite of his great services, was beheaded on May 13, 1619,
and Grotius condemned to life imprisonment, from which he
escaped in 1621.
Meanwhile a national synod, called by the states-general,
held session in Dort from November 13, 1618, to May 9, 1619.
Besides representatives from the Netherlands, delegates from
England, the Palatinate, Hesse, Bremen, and Switzerland
shared in its proceedings. By the synod of Dort, Arminianism
was condemned and "canons," aggressively Calvinistic in tone,
adopted, which, together with the Heidelberg Catechism, and
1 Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, 3 : 545-549.
456 ARMINIANISM, GROTIUS
the Belgic Confession (ante, pp. 433, 443) became the doctrinal
basis of the Dutch Church.1 Not so extreme as individual
Calvinists — it did not adopt Gomarus's supralapsarianl views
—the synod of Dort reached the high-water mark of Calvin-
istic creed-making.
Immediately after the synod of Dort the Remonstrants
were banished, but on the death of Maurice, in 1625, the
measures against them became dead letters. They returned,
though they were not to receive official recognition till 1795. In
the Netherlands the party grew slowly, and still exists. Its
type of piety in the home land was prevailingly intellectual and
ethical, and was somewhat affected by Socinianism. Armin-
ianism was to have even greater influence in England than in
its home land, and was to prove, in the person of John Wesley,
its possibility of association with as warm-hearted and emotional
a type of piety as any interpretation of Christian truth can
exhibit.
Out of this controversy there emerged from the pen of Gro-
tius, in 1617, an important theory of the atonement. The
view of Anselm had looked upon Christ's death as the satis
faction of the injured divine honor (ante, p. 263). The reform
ers had viewed it as the payment of penalty for sin to outraged
divine justice on behalf of those for whom Christ died, and had
represented the exaction of penalty as a fundamental demand
of God's nature, who may be merciful but must be just. To
Calvinistic conception, Christ's sacrifice was sufficient for all,
but efficient only for the elect in whose behalf He died. The
Socinians had subjected these views to a radical criticism,
denying that God's nature demanded punishment, or that the
penalty due to one could justly be met by the sufferings of an
other (ante, p. 453). To the Socinian criticism Grotius now
replied. God is a great moral ruler. Sin is an offense against
His law. Like a wise earthly governor He may pardon if He
chooses; but to pardon without making evident the regard in
which He holds His law would be to bring that law into con
tempt. Hence Christ's death was not a payment for man's sin
—that is freely forgiven — but a tribute to the sanctity of the
divine government, showing that while God remits the penalty,
He vindicates the majesty of His divine government. In that
sense the sacrifice of Christ is no injustice. It is the divine
1 Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, 3 : 550-597.
HUGO GROTIUS 457
tribute to offended law. Like a wise earthly ruler, God may
offer pardon to all who will receive it on such terms as He
chooses, for eiample, on condition of faith and repentance.
The ingenuity of this theory is undeniable. It relieved the
embarrassment of the Arminians caused by their assertion that
Christ died for all. If that sacrifice was for all, and not for the
elect only, and was a payment of the penalty for sin, why then
were not all saved? Grotius gave answer by denying the pay
ment of penalty. He also gave, in reply to the Socinians, a
definite reason for the great sacrifice. Yet, of all the the
ories of the atonement this is the most theatrical and
least satisfactory, for the message of the Gospel is that
in some true sense Christ died, not for general justice, but
for me.
SECTION XVI. ANGLICANISM, PURITANISM, AND CONGREGATION
ALISM IN ENGLAND. EPISCOPACY AND PRESBYTERIANISM
IN SCOTLAND
Queen Elizabeth's relations to the Catholics has been else
where considered (ante, p. 438). Her position, at the beginning
of her reign, was one of exceeding difficulty. With her people
far from united in religious belief, with plots at home and ene
mies abroad, it was only by political manoeuvring of extreme
skilfulness that she was able to steer a successful course. Her
difficulties were increased by the divisions which appeared,
soon after the beginning of her reign, among those who accepted
her rejection of Rome. These were augmented, as that reign
advanced, by the quickened popular religious life which was
transforming a nation that had been previously rather spiritu
ally apathetic during the changes under Henry VIII, Edward
VI, and Mary.
Elizabeth purposely made the acceptance of her religious
settlement as easy as possible. The church, in its officers and
services, resembled the older worship as fully as Protestant
sentiment would tolerate. All but a fragment of its parish
clergy conformed, and Elizabeth was well satisfied to leave them
undisturbed in their parishes, provided they remained quiet,
though their hearty acceptance of Protestantism was often
doubtful and their capacity to preach or spiritual earnestness
often dubious. From a political point of view her policy was
458 THE RISE OF THE PURITANS
wise. England was spared such wars as devastated France
and Germany.
From the first, the Queen was faced, however, by a more
aggressive Protestantism. Many who had been exiles under
Mary had come under the influence of Geneva or Zurich and
returned filled with admiration for their thoroughgoing Protes
tantism. They were men prevailingly of deep religious earnest
ness, upon whom Elizabeth must depend in her conflict with
Rome, yet who, if they could introduce the changes which they
desired, the Queen believed would turmoil a situation kept at
peace at best with difficulty. Yet the desires of these men are
easily understandable from a religious point of view. They
would purge from the services what they believed to be rem
nants of Roman superstition, and procure in every parish an
earnest, spiritual-minded, preaching minister. In particular,
they objected to the prescribed clerical dress as perpetuating
in the popular mind the thought of the ministry as a spiritual
estate of peculiar powers, to kneeling at the reception of the
Lord's Supper as implying adoration of the physical presence
of Christ therein, to the use of the ring in marriage as continuing
the estimate of matrimony as a sacrament, and the sign of the
cross in baptism as superstitious. Because they thus desired
to purify the church, this party, by 1564, was popularly called
the "Puritans."
Led by Laurence Humphrey (1527-1590), president of Mag
dalen College, Oxford, and Thomas Sampson (1517-1589),
dean of Christ Church, Oxford, both Marian exiles, the earliest
Puritan discussion was over the use of the prescribed garments
—the "Vestiarian Controversy." Cambridge University sym
pathized largely with the Puritans. But in this matter the
Queen's policy was strongly opposed to modification, and in
1566 Archbishop Parker issued his "Advertisements/'1 by
which all preachers were required to secure fresh licenses from
the bishops, controversial sermons forbidden, kneeling at com
munion required, and clerical dress minutely prescribed. Under
these regulations a number of Puritan clergy were deprived of
their positions.
Among men who had learned in Zurich and Geneva to feel
that any worship for which Biblical warrant could not be found
1 Gee and Hardy, Documents Illustrative of English Church History, pp.
467-475.
DESIRES OF THE PURITANS 459
is an insult to the divine majesty, this led to a further position—
a question whether an ecclesiastical system which deposed
ministers who 'refused to use vestments and ceremonies not
capable of Scriptural demonstration was that which God in
tended for His church. Furthermore, as they read their New
Testament through Genevan spectacles, they saw there a
definite pattern of church government quite unlike that exist
ing in England, in which effective discipline was maintained by
elders, ministers were in office with the consent of the congrega
tion, and there was essential spiritual parity between those
whom, as Calvin said, the Scriptures in describing them as
"bishops, presbyters, and pastors," "uses the words as synony
mous." 1 It was the same conviction as to the essential equality
of those in spiritual office that nerved Scottish Presbyterianism
to its long fight with "prelacy."
The representative and leader of this second stage of Puri
tanism was Thomas Cartwright (1535?-1603). As Lady Mar
garet professor of divinity in Cambridge University in 1569, he
advocated the appointment of elders for discipline in each
parish, the election of pastors by their people, the abolition of
such offices as archbishops and archdeacons, and the reduction
of clergy to essential parity. That was practical Presbyterian-
ism, and the more radical Puritans moved henceforth in the
Presbyterian direction. The more moderate of the party con
tinued their opposition to ceremonies and vestments without
joining with Cartwright in a demand that the constitution of
the English Church be altered. Cartwright's arguments
aroused the opposition of the man who was to be the chief
enemy of the early Puritans, John Whitgift (1530-1604).
Against Cartwright's assertion of jure divirw Presbyterianism,
Whitgift was far from asserting a similar authority for episco
pacy. To him it was the best form of church government, but
he denied that any exact pattern is laid down in the Scriptures,
and affirmed that much is left to the judgment of the church.
By Whitgift's influence, Cartwright was deprived of his. pro
fessorship in 1570, and the next year driven from the university.
He lived thenceforth a wandering and persecuted life, much
of the time on the Continent, but laboring indefatigably to
further the Presbyterian Puritan cause.
The changes advocated by Cartwright were presented in an
1 Institutes, 4 : 3, 8.
460 DESIRES OF THE PURITANS
extreme but popularly effective pamphlet entitled An Admo
nition to the Parliament, written by two London ministers, John
Field (?-1588) and Thomas Wilcox (1549?-1608), in 1572.
To it Whitgift replied, and was answered, in turn, by Cart-
wright. Presbyterian Puritanism was growing. To those more
moderate than Cartwright, it seemed that it would require
relatively little alteration of the existing churchly constitution.
The obnoxious ceremonies could be discarded, the Prayer
Book revised, elders instituted in parishes, and the bishops
preserved as presiding officers of the churches of each diocese
organized as a synod, primi inter pares. A voluntary local
classis, a kind of presbytery, was organized by Puritan ministers
in Wandsworth, near London, in 1572; and similar organiza
tions sprang up elsewhere. Meeting of ministers for preaching
and discussion — the so-called "prophesyings" — were begun
about the same time. The radical Puritan cause was ad
vanced by the Declaration of Ecclesiastical Discipline, published
by a young Cambridge scholar, Walter Travers (1548?-1635),
in 1574. This soon became, in a sense, the Puritan standard.
All this was aided by the succession to the archbishopric of
Canterbury, on Parker's death, in 1576, of Edmund Grindal
(1519?-1583), who sympathized with the Puritans and was
suspended for his conscientious objections to the Queen's orders
to forbid "prophesy ings."
Cartwright and his fellow Puritans opposed all separation
from the Church of England. Their thought was to introduce
as much of Puritan discipline and practice as possible, and wait
for its further reformation by the government. Such a hope
did not seem vain. Within a generation, the constitution and
worship of the church of the land had been four times altered.
Might it not soon be changed for a fifth time into what the
Puritans deemed a more Scriptural model? They would agi
tate and wait. This remained the programme of the Puritans
generally. Naturally, there were some to whom this delay
seemed unjustifiable. They would establish what they con
ceived to be Scriptural at once. These were the Separatists or
early Congregationalists.
On June 19, 1567, the authorities in London seized and im
prisoned the members of such a Separatist congregation, as
sembled for worship ostensibly to celebrate a wedding. This
company had rejected the Church of England and had chosen at
BEGINNINGS OF CONGREGATIONALISM 461
least two officers — Richard Fitz, minister, and Thomas Rowland,
deacon. It was evidently moving in the Congregational direc
tion. Whether remnants of this congregation maintained a
subsequent corporate existence is not known.
The ; first really conspicuous advocate of Congregational
principles in England was Robert Browne (1550?-1633), a
student in Cambridge in the troublous time of Cartwright's
brief professorship, and a graduate there in 1572. At first an
advanced Presbyterian Puritan, he came to adopt Separatist
principles by about 1580, and in connection with a friend, Robert
Harrison, founded a Congregational Church in Norwich in
1581. As a result of his preaching he found himself speedily
in prison. He and the majority of his congregation sought
safety in Middelburg, in the Netherlands. Here in Middel-
burg Browne had printed, in 1582, a substantial volume con
taining three treatises. One, directed against the Puritans
who would remain in the Church of England, bears its burden
in its title: A Treatise of Reformation without Tarying for anie,
and of the Wickednesse of those Preachers which will not reforme
. . . till the Magistrate commaunde and compel! them. Another, A
Booke which sheweth the Life and Manners of all true Christians,
presented the fundamental principles of Congregationalism.
According to Browne, the only church is a local body of
experiential believers in Christ, united to Him and to one an
other by a voluntary covenant. Such a church has Christ
as its immediate head, and is ruled by officers and laws of His
appointment. Each is self-governing and chooses a pastor, a
teacher, elders, deacons, and widows, whom the New Testa
ment designates; but each member has responsibility for the
welfare of the whole. No church has authority over any other,
but each owes to other brotherly helpfulness. The system thus
outlined was essentially democratic — far more so than early
Congregationalism in general was actually to be in its practice.
Browne's system so closely resembles the views of the Ana
baptists (ante, p. 368) that some connection in thought at least
seems well-nigh certain. Norwich, also, was largely populated
by Dutch refugees. Yet Browne displayed no conscious in
debtedness to the Anabaptists, and did not reject infant baptism.
His emphasis on the covenant as the constitutive element in the
church is much more positive than among the Anabaptists.
The probable conclusion is that Browne owed much to a some-
462 PURITANS AND ANGLICANS
what widely diffused Anabaptist way of thinking, rather than
borrowed directly from any Anabaptist source. Browne's own
stay in Holland was brief. His church was turmoiled, and after
a period in Scotland he returned to England, where he con
formed, outwardly at least, to the Established Church in Octo
ber, 1585, and spent his long remaining life, from 1591 to 1633,
in its ministry. With such a record of abandonment of early
principles it is no wonder that early Congregationalists re
sented the name "Brownists"; yet Congregationalism has
never been more clearly enunciated than by him.
Under Grindal's archbishopric many of the Puritan minis
ters ceased to use the Prayer Book in whole or in part, and the
establishment of the "Holy Discipline," as that set forth in
Traver's Declaration of Ecclesiastical Discipline was called,
went on apace. Grindal was succeeded, however, from 1583
to 1604, in the see of Canterbury by Whitgift. A thorough
Calvinist in theology, he was a martinet in discipline, and in
this had the hearty support of the Queen. He promptly
issued articles enjoining full approval and use of the Prayer
Book, prescribing clerical dress, and forbidding all private re
ligious meetings;1 Thenceforth the hand of repression rested
heavily on Puritans and Separatists. This hostility was embit
tered by the secret publication of a telling satire against the
bishops, coarse and unfair, but extremely witty and exasperat
ing, plainly of Puritan origin, though disliked by the Puritans
generally. Issued in 1588-1589, and known as the "Martin
Marprelate Tracts," their authorship has never been fully as
certained, though probabilities point to Job Throckmorton
(1545-1601), a Puritan layman.
Puritan and Separatist assertion of the divine character of
their systems was now rapidly producing a change of attitude
in the leaders of their opponents, who may be called Anglicans.
In his sermon at Paul's Cross, in London, in 1589, Richard
Bancroft (1544-1610), to be Whitgift's successor as archbishop,
not merely denounced Puritanism, but affirmed a jure divino
right for episcopacy. Adrian Saravia (1531-1613), a Walloon
theologian domiciled in England, advocated the same view
a year later, as did Thomas Bilson (1547-1616), soon to be
bishop of Winchester, in his Perpetual Government of Christ's
Church, in 1593. Less extreme was the learned Richard
1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 481-484.
CONGREGATIONAL MARTYRS 463
Hooker (1553?-! 600), in his Laws of Ecclesiastical Polity, of
1594. Though episcopacy is grounded in Scripture, his chief
argument in its favor is its essential reasonableness, over against
the extreme Biblicism of the Puritans. The foundations of a
high-church party had been laid.
The repression of Puritanism and Separatism was greatly
aided by the court of the High Commission. From Henry VIIFs
time it had been a favorite royal expedient to control ecclesi
astical affairs or persons by commissions appointed to investi
gate and adjudicate without being bound by the ordinary proc
esses of law. The system was a gradual growth. Elizabeth
developed it, and made it more permanent ; but it did not be
come a thoroughly effective ecclesiastical court till Bancroft
had become one of its members in 1587. By 1592 it had fully
attained its powers. The presumption of guilt was against the
accused, and the nature of proof was undefined. It could
examine and imprison anywhere in England, and had become
the right arm of episcopal authority.
Meanwhile, Congregationalism had reappeared. In 1587
Henry Barrowe (1550?-1593), a lawyer of London, and John
Greenwood (?-1593), a clergyman, were arrested for holding
Separatist meetings in London. From their prison they
smuggled manuscripts which appeared as printed treatises in
Holland, attacking Anglicans and Puritans alike, and explain
ing Congregational principles. A number were won, including
Francis Johnson (1562-1618), a Puritan minister. In 1592 a
Congregational Church was formed in London with Johnson as
its "pastor" and Greenwood as its "teacher," and on April 6
of the next year Barrowe and Greenwood were hanged for
denying the Queen's supremacy in ecclesiastical matters. The
same year Parliament passed a statute proclaiming banishment
against all who challenged the Queen's ecclesiastical authority,
refused to go to church, or were present at some "conventicle"
where other than the lawful worship was employed.1 Under
its terms most of the London Congregationalists were com
pelled to seek refuge in Amsterdam, where Johnson continued
their pastor and Henry Ainsworth (1571-1623?) their teacher.
The closing years of Elizabeth's reign also saw the begin
nings of a reaction from the dominant Calvinism. By 1595 a
controversy broke out in Cambridge, where Peter Baro (1534-
1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 492-498.
464 JAMES I AND THE PURITANS
1599) had been advocating views that would later have been
called Arminian. This discussion led to the publication, un
der Whitgift's auspices of the strongly Calvinistic "Lambeth
Articles" j1 but the tendency to criticise Calvinism, thus started,
increased, and through opposition to Puritanism, in part, was
to become more and more characteristic of the Anglican party.
Elizabeth closed her long reign on March 24, 1603, and was
succeeded by Mary "Queen of Scots's" son, James I (1603-
1625), who had already held the Scottish throne since 1567, as
James VI. All religious parties in England looked with hope
to his accession, the Catholics because of his parentage, the
Presbyterian Puritans by reason of his Presbyterian education,
and the Anglicans on account of his high conceptions of divine
right and his hostility to Presbyterian rule, which had devel
oped in his long struggles to maintain the power of the crown
in Scotland. Only the Anglicans read his character correctly.
"No bishop, no King/' was his favorite expression. In claim
and action he was no more arbitrary than Elizabeth ; but the
country would bear much from a popular and admired ruler
which it resented from a disliked, undignified, and unrepresen
tative sovereign.
On his way to London, in April, 1603, James I was presented
with the "Millenary Petition," 2 so-called because it was sup
posed to bear a thousand signatures, though really unsigned.
It was a very moderate statement of the Puritan desires. As
a consequence, a conference was held at Hampton Court, in
January, 1604, between bishops and Puritans, in the royal
presence — the leading Anglican disputant, besides the King
himself, being Bancroft, now bishop of London. No changes
of importance desired by the Puritans were granted, except a
new translation of the Bible, which resulted in the "Author
ized Version" of 1611. They were ordered to conform. This
Anglican victory was followed by the enactment by convoca
tion, with royal approval, in 1604, of a series of canons elevating
into church law many of the declarations and practices against
which the Puritans had objected. The leading spirit here was
Bancroft, who was soon to succeed Whit gift in the see of
Canterbury (1604-1610). The Puritans were now thoroughly
alarmed, but Bancroft was more considerate in government
1 Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, 3 : 523.
2 Gee and Hardy, pp. 508-511.
SEPARATIST MOVEMENTS 465
than his declarations and previous conduct would have proph
esied, and only a relatively small number of ministers, estimated
variously from forty-nine to three hundred, were actually de
prived. Anglicanism was gaining strength, also, from a gradual
improvement in the education and zeal of its clergy, which
Whitgift and Bancroft did much to foster — a conspicuous ex
ample being the learned, saintly, and eloquent Lancelot An-
drewes (1555-1626), who became bishop of Chichcster in 1605.
Bancroft's successor as archbishop was George Abbot (1611-
1633), a man of narrow sympathies and strong Calvinism, un
popular with the mass of the clergy, and himself in practical
disgrace in the latter part of his episcopate. The loss of such
strong hands as those of Whitgift and Bancroft was felt by the
Anglicans, and under these circumstances, not only Puritanism
but Separatism made decided progress.
A Separatist movement of far-reaching ultimate consequences
had its beginnings probably about 1602, in the work of John
Smyth (?-1612), a former clergyman of the establishment,
who had adopted Separatist principles and now gathered a
congregation in Gainsborough. Soon adherents were secured
in the adjacent rural districts, and a second congregation
gathered in the home of William Brewster (1560?-! 644), at
Scrooby. Of this Scrooby body William Bradford (1590-1657)
was a youthful member. From about 1604 it enjoyed the lead
ership of the learned and sweet-tempered John Robinson
(1575?-1625), like Smyth a former clergyman of the Puritan
party in the Church of England, and like him led to believe
Separatism the only logical step. The hand of authority being
heavy upon them, the Gainsborough congregation, led by
Smyth, were self-exiled to Amsterdam, probably in 1607.
That centred in Scrooby, under Robinson and Brewster's lead
ership, followed the same road to Holland, in 1607 and 1608,
but established itself in 1609 in Leyden.
At Amsterdam Smyth came into contact with the Men-
nonites, and by his own study was convinced that their posi
tion rejecting infant baptism was that of primitive Christianity.
In 1608 or 1609 he therefore baptized himself by pouring, and
then the others of his church. Of unstable disposition, Smyth
soon after quarrelled with his flock, but two of its members,
Thomas Helwys (1550?-1616?), and John Murton (?-1625?),
led the return of a considerable portion to England, and estab-
466 ENGLISH BAPTISTS. THE PILGRIM FATHERS
lished in London, in 1611 or 1612, the first permanent Baptist
congregation on English soil. In the contemporary Dutch
controversies they had adopted the Arminian position, and
were therefore known as "General Baptists." Apparently
some remnants of the exiled Congregational Church of John
son and Greenwood (ante, p. 463) kept up an organization in
London, but the effective permanent replanting of Congrega
tionalism in England was when Henry Jacob (1563-1624), who
had been of Robinson's congregation in Leyden, established
a church in Southwark in 1616. From this church a portion
seceded in 1633, on Baptist principles. They were Calvinists,
and hence named "Particular Baptists." By them immersion
was practised about 1641, and thence spread to all English
Baptists.
The chief event in the history of the Leyden Congregational
Church was the decision to send its more active minority to
America. Robinson reluctantly stayed with the majority.
In 1620, after infinite negotiation, the "Pilgrim Fathers"
crossed the Atlantic in the Mayflower, under the spiritual
leadership of their "elder," William Brewster, and on Decem
ber 21 laid the foundations of the colony of Plymouth, of
which William Bradford was soon to be the wise and self-
forgetful governor. Congregationalism was thus planted in
New England.
Meanwhile under Abbot's less vigorous government Puri
tanism was establishing "lectureships," the successors of the
old-time "prophesy ings." In parishes where the legal incum
bent was hostile, or unwilling, or unable to preach — sometimes
with the consent of the incumbent himself — Puritan money
was financing afternoon preachers, of strongly Puritan cast.
Puritanism had always laid stress on a strict observance of
Sunday. Its Sabbatarian tendencies were augmented by the
publication, in 1595, by Nicholas Bownde (?-1613) of his
Doctrine of the Sabbath, urging the perpetuity of the fourth
commandment in Jewish rigor. Much Puritan hostility was,
therefore, roused — and that of Archbishop Abbot also — when
James I issued his famous Declaration of Sports, in 1618, in
which he commended the old popular games and dances for
Sunday observance. To the Puritan it seemed a royal com
mand to disobey the will of God. Puritanism was steadily
growing as a political force all through James's reign. The
JAMES FS POLICY IN SCOTLAND 467
King's arbitrary treatment of Parliament, his failure to support
effectively the hard-pressed Protestants of Germany in the
opening struggles of the Thirty Years' War, and above all,
his ultimately unsuccessful attempts to procure marriage with
a Spanish princess for his heir, were increasingly resented, and
drove the Commons into a steadily growing political sympathy
with Puritanism, the more that the Anglicans were identified
largely with the royal policies. By the end of his reign, in
1625, the outlook was ominous.
Nor was James's policy in his northern kingdom less fraught
with future mischief. During James's childhood the Regent
Morton, in 1572, had secured the nominal perpetuation of the
episcopate largely as a means of getting possession of church
lands. There were, therefore, bishops in name in Scotland.
Their power was slight. In 1581, under the lead of Andrew
Melville, the General Assembly had given full authority to
presbyteries as ecclesiastical courts, and had ratified the Presby
terian Second Book of Discipline. In spite of James's opposi
tion, the King and the Scottish Parliament had been compelled to
recognize this Presbyterian system as established by law in 1592.
Yet James was determined to substitute a royally controlled
episcopacy for this largely self-governing Presbyter iariism.
He had the means at hand in the nominal bishops. By 1597
he was strong enough to insist that he alone had the right to
call general assemblies, and his encroachments on Presby-
terianism steadily grew. Melville and other leaders were
exiled. The year 1610 saw a notable royal advance. James
established two high commission courts for ecclesiastical cases
in Scotland, similar to that of England, and each with an
archbishop at its head ; and he procured from English bishops
episcopal consecration and apostolical succession for the hitherto
irregular Scottish episcopate. A packed Parliament, in 1612,
completed the process by giving full diocesan jurisdiction to
these bishops. Thus far there had been no changes in worship,
but nine years later the King forced through a cowed General
Assembly, and then through Parliament, kneeling at com
munion, confirmation by episcopal hands, the observation of
the great church festivals, private communion and private
baptism. Scotland was seething with religious discontent
when James died.
James I was succeeded, in England and Scotland, by his son
468 CHARLES I AND LAUD
Charles I (1625-1649). A man of more personal dignity than
his father, of pure family life, and of sincere religion, he was
quite as exalted as James in his conceptions of the divine right
of Kings, arbitrary in his actions, and with no capacity to
understand the drift of public sentiment. He was also marked
by a weakness that easily laid him open to charges of double-
dealing and dishonesty. From the first he enjoyed the friend
ship and support of one of the most remarkable men of the
time, William Laud (1573-1645).
Laud had been, under James, a leader among the younger
Anglicans. A vigorous opponent of Calvinism, he had argued
as early as 1604 "that there could be no true church without
bishops." In 1622, in contest with the Jesuit, Fisher, he had
held that the Roman Church was a true church, and a branch
of the Catholic Church universal, of which the Church of Eng
land was the purest part. In many respects he was a founder
of the "Anglo-Catholic" position ; but it is not to be wondered
that both the Puritans and the Roman authorities, to whom
that view was then novel, believed him a Roman Catholic at
heart. Twice he was offered a cardinalate. So to class him
was, however, to do him a great injustice. Laud was a mar
tinet, intent on uniformity in ceremony, dress and worship,
with a rough tongue and overbearing manner that made him
many enemies. At bottom, with all his narrowness of sym
pathy, he had a real piety of the type, though not of the win-
someness, of Lancelot Andrewes. In 1628 Charles made Laud
bishop of the strongly Puritan diocese of London, and in 1633
archbishop of Canterbury. To all intents he was Charles's
chief adviser also in political affairs after the murder of the
duke of Buckingham in 1628.
The country gentry, who formed the backbone of the House
of Commons were strongly Calvinist in their sympathies, and
disposed politically to resent the arbitrary imposition of taxes
without parliamentary consent. Charles scon put himself
in disfavor in both respects. Under Laud's guidance he pro
moted Arminians to church preferments. To prevent Cal-
vinistic discussion, in 1628, he caused a declaration to be pre
fixed to the Thirty-nine Articles, that no man shall "put his
own sense," on any Article, "but shall take it in the literal and
grammatical sense." 1 Parliament resented these actions.2
1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 518-520. 2 Ibid., pp. 521-527.
CHARLES AND PARLIAMENT. NEW ENGLAND 469
Charles had proceeded to forced taxation, imprisoning some
who refused to pay. Roger Manwaring (1590-1653), a royal
chaplain, preached in 1627, arguing that as the King ruled as
God's representative, those who refused taxes imposed by him
were in peril of damnation. Parliament condemned Man-
waring, in 1628, to fine and imprisonment, but Charles protected
him by pardon and rewarded him by ecclesiastical advance
ment, ultimately by a bishopric. Questions of royal right to
imprison without statement of cause, and of taxation, as well
as of religion, embittered the relations of King and Parliament,
and after dismissing that of, 1629, Charles determined to rule
without parliamentary aid. No Parliament was to meet till
1640. The weakness of the Anglican party was that it had
identified itself with the arbitrary policy of the King.
Laud, with the support of the King, enforced conformity
with a heavy hand. Lectureships were broken up. Puritan
preachers silenced. The Declaration of Sports was reissued.
Under these circumstances many Puritans began to despair of
the religious and political outlook, and to plan to follow the
Separatists across the Atlantic. It was no abstract religious
liberty that they sought, but freedom to preach and organize
as they desired. By 1628, emigration to Massachusetts had be
gun. In 1629, a royal charter for Massachusetts was secured,
and a church formed in Salem. The year 1630 saw the arrival
of many immigrants under the leadership of John Winthrop
(1588-1649). Soon there were strong churches about Massa
chusetts Bay, under able ministerial leaders, of whom John
Cotton (1584-1652) of Boston, and Richard Mather (1596-
1669) of Dorchester, were the most conspicuous. Connecticut
colony was fully established in 1636, with Thomas Hooker
(1586-1647) as its chief minister at Hartford; and New Haven
colony in 1638, under the spiritual guidance of John Davenport
(1597-1670). These men were clergy of the English establish
ment. They had no fondness for Separatism. But, like the
Separatists, they looked on the Bible as the sole law of church
organization, and they read it in the same way. Their churches
were organized, therefore, on the Congregational model. Till
1640, the Puritan tide to New England ran full, at least twenty
thousand crossing the Atlantic.
Charles's period of rule without Parliament was a time of
considerable prosperity in England, but taxes widely believed
470 SCOTLAND REVOLTS. THE CIVIL WAR
to be illegal, such as the famous "ship-money," and enforced
religious uniformity, kept up the unrest. It was in Scotland,
however, that the storm broke. James I had succeeded in
his overthrow of Presbyterianism largely by securing the sup
port of the nobles by grants of church lands. At the beginning
of his reign Charles, by an act of revocation that was just,
though impolitic, ordered the restoration of these lands, to the
lasting advantage of the Scottish church, though the command
was imperfectly executed. Its political effect, however, was
to throw the possessors of church lands and tithes largely on
the side of the discontented Presbyterians. There was now a
relatively united Scotland, instead of the divisions which James
had fomented to his profit.
Great as were the changes effected by James I, he had not
dared alter the larger features of public worship (ante, p. 467).
But now, in 1637, in a fatuous desire for uniformity, Charles,
inspired by Laud, ordered the imposition of a liturgy which was
essentially that of the Church of England. Its use, on July
23, in Edinburgh, led to riot. Scotland flared in opposition.
In February, 1638, a National Covenant to defend the true re
ligion was widely signed. In December, a General Assembly
deposed the bishops, and repudiated the whole ecclesiastical
structure which James and Charles had erected since 1597.
This was rebellion, and Charles raised forces to suppress it.
So formidable was the Scottish attitude that an agreement
patched up a truce in 1639; but in 1640 Charles determined to
bring the Scots to terms. To pay the expenses of the war in
prospect Charles was at last compelled to call an English
Parliament in April, 1640. The old parliamentary grievances
in politics and religion were at once presented, and Charles
speedily dissolved the "Short Parliament." In the brief war
that followed the Scots successfully invaded England. Charles
was forced to treat, and to guarantee the expenses of a Scottish
army of occupation till the treaty should be completed. There
was no help for it. The English Parliament must again be sum
moned, and in November, 1640, the "Long Parliament" began
its work. It was evident at once that Presbyterian Puritanism
was in the majority. Laud was cast into prison. In July,
1641, the High Commission was abolished. In January, 1642,
the attempt of the King to seize five members of the Commons,
whom he accused of treason, precipitated the civil war. In
THE WESTMINSTER ASSEMBLY 471
general, the North and West stood for the King, the South
and East for Parliament.1
Parliament ab6lished episcopacy in January, 1643. Provision
must be made for the creed and government of the church, and
therefore, Parliament, quite in the spirit of Elizabeth, as sover
eign, called an assembly of one hundred and twenty-one clergy
men and thirty laymen, named by it, to meet in Westminster
on July 1, 1643, to advise Parliament, which kept the power of
enactment in its own hands. The Westminster Assembly, thus
convened, contained a few Congregationalists and Episcopa
lians, but its overwhelming majority was Presbyterian Puritan.
Meanwhile the war had begun ill for Parliament, and to secure
Scottish aid the Solemn League and Covenant, pledging the
largest possible uniformity in religion in England, Scotland, and
Ireland, and opposing "prelacy/' was accepted by the Scottish
and English Parliaments between August and October, 1643,
and was soon required of all Englishmen over eighteen years
of age. Scottish commissioners, without vote, but with much
influence, now sat in the Westminster Assembly. The Assembly
presented to Parliament a Directory of Worship and a thoroughly
Presbyterian system of church government in 1644. In Janu
ary following, Parliament abolished the Prayer Book and sub
stituted the Directory, which provided an order of worship
substantially that used in conservative Presbyterian and Con
gregational Churches to the present day, without liturgical
prayer, though with suggestions of appropriate subjects of
petition. Parliament looked askance at the establishment of
Presbyterian government, though finally ordering it in June,
1646. The work was, however, very imperfectly set in opera
tion. The same month that witnessed the abolition of the
Prayer Book, saw the execution of Laud under a bill of at
tainder — an act which must be judged one of vindictiveness.
The Assembly next prepared its famous confession,2 which it
laid before Parliament late in 1646. Adopted by the General
Assembly of Scotland on August 27, 1647, it remains the
standard of Scottish and American Presbyterianism. The Eng
lish Parliament refused approval till June, 1648, and then modi
fied some sections. In 1647, the Assembly completed two
1 For important documents illustrative of this period, see Gee and
Hardy, pp. 537-585.
2 Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, 3 : 598-673.
472 CROMWELL. CHARLES I DEFEATED
catechisms, a Larger, for pulpit exposition, and a Shorter,1
for the training of children. Both were approved by the Eng
lish Parliament and the Scottish General Assembly in 1648.
The Westminster Confession and catechisms have always
ranked among the most notable expositions of Calvinism. In
general, they repeat the familiar continental type. On the
question of the divine decrees they are infralapsarian (ante,
p. 454). One of their chief peculiarities is that in addition to
the familiar derivation of original sin from the first parents as
"the root of all mankind," they emphasize a "covenant of
works" and a "covenant of grace." In the former, Ad#m is
regarded as the representative head of the human race, to whom
God made definite promises, which included his descendants,
and which he, as their representative, forfeited by his disobedi
ence for them as well as for himself. The " covenant of works"
having failed, God offered a new "covenant of grace" through
Christ. This covenant doctrine is to be traced to Kaspar
Olevianus (ante, p. 443), though its fullest exposition was to be
in the work of Johann Coccejus (1603-1669), professor in
Franeker and Leyden. It was an attempt to give a definite
explanation of sin as man's own act, and to show a real human
responsibility for his ruin. Another peculiarity of these sym
bols is an emphasis on the Sabbath consonant with the Puritan
development of this doctrine (ante, p. 466).
While these theological and ecclesiastical discussions were in
progress the civil war had run its early course. On July 2,
1644, the royal army had been defeated on Marston Moor near
York, largely by the skill of a member of Parliament of little
military experience, Oliver Cromwell (1599-1658), whose
abilities had created a picked troop of "religious men." Not
quite a year later, on June 14, 1645, Cromwell cut to pieces the
last field army of the King near Naseby. The next year
Charles gave himself up to the Scots, who, in turn, surrendered
him to the English Parliament. The army, as created by Crom
well, was a body of religious enthusiasts, in which little question
was raised of finer distinctions of creed. So long as they op
posed Rome and "prelacy," Baptists, Congregationalists, and
Puritans were welcome in it. The rigid Presbyterianism of
the parliamentary majority was as distasteful to the army
as the older rule of bishops, and Cromwell fully shared this
1 Ibid., pp. 676-703.
CROMWELL'S PROTECTORATE 473
feeling. The army was soon demanding a large degree of toler
ation.
This attitude of the army prevented the full establishment
of Presbyterianism which Parliament sanctioned. It dis
pleased tJie Scots. Charles now used this situation to intrigue
with the Scots to invade England in his interest, inducing them
to believe that he would support Presbyterianism. On August
17-19, 1648, the invading Scottish army was scattered by Crom
well near Preston. This victory left the army supreme in Eng
land. On December 6 following, "Pride's Purge" expelled
from Parliament all opposed to the army's wishes. Charles I
was then tried and condemned for his alleged treasons and per
fidies, and beheaded on January 30, 1649, bearing himself with
great dignity. Cromwell then subjugated Ireland in 1649,
reduced Scotland the next year, and overthrew Charles's son,
the later Charles II (1660-1685) near Worcester in 1651. Op
position had been everywhere put down.
Cromwell, though not identified wholly with any denomina
tion, was practically a Congregationalist, or Independent, and
under his Protectorate a large degree of toleration was allowed.1
Since the beginning of the war, however, about two thousand
Episcopal clergymen had been deprived, and had suffered great
hardship. Then as in earlier and later changes it is evident,
nevertheless, that the great majority of the clergy either were
undisturbed or managed to adjust themselves to the new state
of affairs. Able, conscientious, and statesmanlike as Crom
well was, his rule was that of military authority, and was, as
such, disliked, while the bickerings of rival religious bodies
were equally distasteful to a great majority of the people of
England who could, as yet, conceive of only one established
form of faith. Till his death, on September 3, 1658, Cromwell
suppressed all disaffection.
Oliver Cromwell was succeeded by his son, Richard, as
Protector; but the new ruler was a man of no force, and prac
tical anarchy was the result. Royalists and Presbyterians now
combined to effect a restoration of the monarchy. On April,
14, 1660, Charles II issued a declaration "of liberty to tender
consciences," from Breda,2 and on May 29 was in London.
But if the Presbyterians had just hopes of being included in the
1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 574-585.
2 Ibid., pp. 585-588.
474 THE RESTORATION
new religious settlement, they were doomed to bitter disappoint
ment.
Charles II may have intended some comprehension of Pres
byterians in the national church. Edward Reynolds (1599-
1676), heretofore a decided Puritan, was made bishop of Nor
wich. The saintly Richard Baxter (1615-1691), one of the most
eminent of the Presbyterian party, was offered a bishopric,
but declined. A conference between bishops and Presbyterians
was held by government authority at the Savoy Palace in 166 1,1
but led to little result. Charles II was thoroughly immoral,
weak, and indifferent in religion, and little reliance could be
placed on his promises. Had he been a better or a stronger
man, it is doubtful whether he could have stemmed the tide of
national reaction against Puritanism. The first Parliament
chosen after his restoration was fiercely royalist and Anglican.
The Convocations of Canterbury and York met in 1661, and
some six hundred alterations were made in the Prayer Book,
but none looking in the Puritan direction, and in May, 1662,
the new Act of Uniformity received the royal assent. By it2
the use of any other service than those of the revised Prayer
Book was forbidden under heavy penalties, and each clergy
man was required, before August 24, to make oath of "un
feigned assent and consent to all and everything contained
and prescribed" therein; and also, "that it is not lawful, upon
any pretense whatsoever, to take arms against the King."
These provisions were intended to bar the Puritans from the
church, and as such they were effectual. From fifteen hundred
to two thousand ministers gave up their places rather than take
the prescribed oaths. The Puritan party was now, what it
had never been before, one outside the Church of England.
Non-conformity had been forced to become Dissent. Severer
acts soon followed, induced in part by fear of conspiracy against
the restored monarchy. By the First Conventicle Act, of 1664,
fine, imprisonment, and ultimate transportation were the pen
alties for presence at a service not in accordance with the
Prayer Book, attended by five or more persons not of the same
household. The "Five Mile Act," 3 of the next year, forbad
any person "in Holy Orders or pretended Holy Orders," or
who had preached to a "conventicle," and did not take the
1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 588-594. 2 Ibid., pp. 600-619.
3 Ibid., pp. 620-623.
DISSENT REPRESSED 475
oath condemning armed resistance to the King, and pledging
no attempt at "any alteration of government either in church
or state," to live within five miles of any incorporated town or
within the same distance of the former place of his ministry.
Such persons were also forbidden to teach school— about the
only occupation readily open to a deprived minister. The
Second Conventicle Act,1 of 1670, made penalties for such un
lawful attendance less severe, but ingeniously provided that the
heavy fines on preacher and hearers could be collected from any
attendant, in case poverty prevented their payment by all.
Yet, in spite of this repression, Dissenting preaching and con
gregations continued.
Charles II, though a man of no real religion, sympathized
with the Roman faith, which he professed on his death-bed,
and his brother, the later James II, was an acknowledged and
earnest Catholic from 1672. Moreover, Charles was receiving
secret pensions from the strongly Catholic Louis XIV of France.
On March 15, 1672, with a design of aiding the Catholics and
securing Dissenting favor to that end, Charles issued, on his
own authority, a Declaration of Indulgence, by which Protes
tant Dissenters were granted public worship, the penal laws
against the Catholics remitted, and their worship permitted
in private houses. To Parliament this seemed an unconstitu
tional favor to Rome. It forced the withdrawal of the Indul
gence, in 1673, and passed the Test Act,2 which, though aimed
at Catholics, bore hard on Protestant Dissenters. All in mili
tary or civil office, with few minor exceptions, living within
thirty miles of London, were required to take the Lord's Sup
per according to the rites of the Church of England or forfeit
their posts. This statute was not to be repealed till 1828.
The repression of Dissent, therefore, continued unchanged till
the death of Charles II, in 1685.
For James II (1685-1688) it must be said that he saw in the
establishment of Catholicism his chief aim, and his measures,
though unwise, were courageous. He ignored the Test Act,
and appointed Catholics to high office in military and civil
service. He brought in Jesuits and monks. He secured from
a packed Court of the King's Bench, in 1686, an acknowledg
ment of his right " to dispense with all penal laws in particular
cases." He re-established a High Commission Court. On
1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 623-632. 2 Ibid., pp. 632-640.
476 THE REVOLUTION. TOLERATION
April 4, 1687, he issued a Declaration of Indulgence,1 granting
complete religious toleration. In itself it was a well-sounding,
and from the modern standpoint, a praiseworthy act. Yet its
motives were too obvious. Its ultimate aim was to make
England once more a Roman Catholic country, and all Protes
tantism was alarmed, while lovers of constitutional government
saw in it a nullification of the power of Parliament by arbitrary
royal will. The vast majority of Dissenters, though relieved
thereby from grievous disabilities, refused to support it, and
made common cause with the churchmen. When, in April,
1688, James II ordered the Indulgence read in all churches,
seven bishops protested. They were put on trial and, to the
delight of the Protestants, acquitted. James had taxed na
tional feeling too greatly. William of Orange (1650-1702),
the Stadholder of the Netherlands, who had married Mary,
James's daughter, was invited to head the movement against
James. On November 5, 1688, he landed with an army.
James fled to France. The Revolution was accomplished, and
on February 13, 1689, William (III) and Mary were proclaimed
joint sovereigns of England.
The clergy of the Restoration had asserted too long the doc
trines of the divine right of Kings and of passive obedience to
royal authority to make this change palatable. Seven bishops,
headed by William Sancroft (1616-1693), refused the oath of
allegiance to the new sovereigns, and with them about four
hundred clergy. To them James II was still the Lord's
anointed. They were deprived, as Anglicans and Dissenters
had been before, and they bore themselves with equal courage.
Many of them were men of earnest piety. They formed the
Nonjuror party, which gradually died out.
Under the circumstances of the Revolution of 1688, toleration
could no longer be denied to Protestant Dissenters. By the
Toleration Act2 of May 24, 1689, all who swore, or affirmed,
the oaths of allegiance to William and Mary rejected the juris
diction of the Pope, transubstantiation, the mass, the invoca
tion of the Virgin and saints, and also subscribed the doctrinal
portions of the Thirty-nine Articles, were granted freedom of
worship. It was a personal toleration, not a territorial adjust
ment as in Germany at the close of the Thirty Years' War.
Diverse forms of Protestant worship could now exist side by
1 Gee and Hardy, pp. 641-644. 2 Ibid., pp. 654-664.
SCOTLAND. THE COVENANTERS 477
side. The Dissenters may have amounted to a tenth of the
population of England, divided between Presbyterians, Con-
gregationalists, Baptists, and Quakers. They were still bound
to pay tithes to the establishment, and had many other dis
abilities, but they had won essential religious freedom. No
such privileges were granted to deniers of the Trinity or to
Roman Catholics. The effective relief of the latter did not
come till 1778 and 1791, and was not completed till 1829.
In Scotland, the Restoration was a time of great turmoil
and suffering. The Parliament of 1661 annulled all acts af
fecting religion passed since 1633. Episcopacy was, therefore,
restored as in the time of Charles I. In September, 1661,
four bishops were appointed, chief of them James Sharp (1618-
1679) as archbishop of St. Andrews. Consecration was ob
tained from England. Sharp had been a Presbyterian minis
ter, but had betrayed his party and his church. All office
holders were required by Parliament to disown the covenants
of 1638 and 1643. In 1663 Parliament enacted heavy fines
for absence from the now episcopally governed churches,
though even it did not dare introduce a liturgy. Many Pres
byterian ministers were now deprived, especially in south
western Scotland. When their parishioners absented them
selves from the ministration of the new appointees, they were
fined, and if payment was not forthcoming, soldiers were quar
tered on them. In 1664 a High Commission Court was added
to the instruments of repression. Two years later some of the
oppressed supporters of the covenants of 1638 and 1643, or Cov
enanters, engaged in the Pentland Rising. It was ruthlessly
crushed, and the Presbyterian element treated with increasing
severity. On May 3, 1679, in belated retaliation, Sharp was
murdered. This crime was speedily followed by an armed ris
ing of Covenanters ; but on June 22 the revolt was crushed at
Bothwell Bridge and the captured insurgents treated with great
cruelty. Six months later the King's brother, James — the later
James II of England — was practically put in charge of Scottish
affairs. The extremer and uncompromising Presbyterians were
now a proscribed and hunted folk, known as Cameronians —
from one of their leaders, Richard Cameron.
The accession of James II, or VII, as he was numbered in
Scotland, but intensified at first the repression of the Camer
onians. His first year was the "killing time" ; and the Parlia-
478 PRESBYTERIANISM ESTABLISHED
ment of 1685 made death the punishment for attendance at a
"conventicle." James, however, soon pursued the same course
as in England. He filled his council with Catholics, and in
1687 issued Letters of Indulgence granting freedom of worship.
As in England, this release of Catholics from penalty aroused
the hostility of all shades of Protestants. Episcopalians and
Presbyterians were alike opposed; and when William and
Mary mounted the throne of England they had many friends
in the northern kingdom. Scotland was more divided than
England, however. The Stewarts were Scotch, and though
Episcopalians disliked the Catholicism of James they distrusted
the Calvinism of "Dutch William," whom the Presbyterians
favored. The Revolution triumphed, however, and on May
11, 1689, William and Mary became rulers of Scotland. In
1690 Parliament restored all Presbyterian ministers ejected
since 1661, ratified the Westminster Confession (ante, p. 472),
and declared Presbyterianism the form recognized by the
government. This legal establishment of Presbyterianism
was opposed by the Cameronian laity, who continued their
hostility to any control of the church by civil authority and
condemned the failure to renew the covenants, and by the Epis
copalians, who were strong in northern Scotland. The latter,
however, though in the status of a "dissenting" body, were
permitted by a toleration act of 1712, to use the English liturgy.
In both England and Scotland the long quarrels between Protes
tants were, therefore, adjusted in similar fashion by toleration.
SECTION XVII. THE QUAKERS
One of the most remarkable products of the period of the
civil wars in England was the Society of Friends, or Quakers.
George Fox (1624-1691) was one of the few religious geniuses
of English history. Born in Fenny Drayton, the son of a
weaver, he grew up earnest and serious-minded, having "never
wronged man or woman." At nineteen a drinking bout, to
which he was invited by some nominal Christians, so disgusted
him by the contrast between practice and profession that he
was set on a soul-distressing search for spiritual reality. Shams
of all sorts he detested. His early associates had been to some
extent Baptist, and many of his later peculiarities are to be
found among the Anabaptists of the Continent or were rep-
GEORGE FOX 479
resented by the irregular sects of the English civil- war period.
These were but the outward trappings. His transforming and
always central' experience came to Fox in 1646. He felt that
Christianity is not an outward profession, but an inner light by
which Christ directly illuminates the believing soul. Revela
tion is not confined to the Scriptures, though they are a true
Word of God — it enlightens all men who are true disciples.
The Spirit of God speaks directly through them, gives them
their message, and quickens them for service.
In 1647 Fox began his stormy ministry. Since God gives
inner light where He will, the true ministry is that of any man
or woman that He deigns to use. A professional ministry is
to be rejected. The sacraments are inward and spiritual veri
ties. The outward elements are not merely unnecessary but
misleading. Oaths are a needless corroboration of the truth
ful word of a Christian. Servility in speech or behavior is a
degradation of the true Christian respect of man to man.
Artificial titles are to be rejected — Fox did not deny legal titles
like King or judge. War is unlawful for a Christian. Slavery
abhorrent. All Christianity to be true must express itself in a
transformed, consecrated life. Such a protest as that of Fox
against tendencies to confine all divine revelation to the Scrip
tures or to the Fathers of early centuries was a wholesome and
needed corrective to a one-sided interpretation of Christianity.
Nor was its insistence on spiritual honesty less beneficial.
The sincerity and spiritual earnestness of Fox's beliefs, his
hatred of all that savored of formalism, and his demand for
inward spiritual experience were immensely attractive forces.
By 1652 the first Quaker community was gathered in Preston
Patrick in northern England. Two years later the Friends
had spread to London, Bristol, and Norwich. Fox's most
eminent early convert was Margaret Fell (1614-1702), whom he
married after she became a widow, and her home, Swarthmore
Hall, furnished a headquarters for his preachers.
In the circumstances of English life such a movement met
with fierce opposition. Before 1661 no less than three thousand
one hundred and seventy-nine, including Fox himself, had suf
fered imprisonment. A missionary zeal was early manifested
which sent Quakers to proclaim their faith to as far distant
points as Jerusalem, the West India Islands, Germany, Austria,
and Holland. In 1656, they entered Massachusetts, and by
480 THE QUAKERS
1661 four had been hanged. There was some explanation,
though no justification, for this severity in the extravagant
conduct of a good many of the early Quakers, which would have
aroused police interference in any age.
These extravagances were made possible by the early want
of organization, as well as belief in the immediate inspiration
of the Spirit. Fox saw the necessity of order, and by 1666 the
main features of the Quaker discipline were mapped out,
though in the face of considerable opposition. In that year
" Monthly Meetings" were established, by which strict watch
could be kept over the life and conduct of the membership.
Before Fox died, in 1691, the body had taken on the sober
characteristics which have ever since distinguished it.
The laws against Dissenters at the Restoration bore with
peculiar severity on the Quakers, since they, unlike the Pres
byterians and Congregationalists, made no effort to conceal
their meetings, but defiantly maintained them in the face of
hostile authority. About four hundred met their deaths in
prison, and many were ruined financially by heavy fines. To
this period, however, belongs their most eminent trophy and
their great colonial experiment. William Penn (1644-1718),
son of Admiral Sir William Penn, after inclinations toward
Quakerism as early as 1661, fully embraced its beliefs in 1666
and became at once one of the most eminent preachers and
literary defenders of the faith. He determined to find in
America the freedom denied Quakers in England. After aid
ing in sending some eight hundred Quakers to New Jersey in
1677-1678, Penn obtained from Charles II the grant of Penn
sylvania, in 1681, in release of a debt due from the crown to
his father. In 1682 Philadelphia was founded, and a great
colonial experiment begun.
The Toleration Act of 1689 (ante, p. 476) relieved the Quak
ers, like other Dissenters, of their more pressing disabilities,
and granted them freedom of worship.
I
PERIOD VII. THE TRANSITION TO THE
MODERN RELIGIOUS SITUATION
SECTION I. THE TURNING POINT
THE question has been much controverted whether the
Reformation is to be reckoned to the Middle Ages or to modern
history. Not a little may be urged in support of either posi
tion. Its conceptions of religion as to be maintained by ex
ternal authority, of the dominance of religion over all forms of
educational and cultural life, of a single type of worship as
alone allowable, at least within a given territory, of original
sin and the essential worthlessness of the natural man, of evil
spirits and witchcraft, of the immediacy and arbitrariness of
the divine relations with the world, ancfeof the other-worldliness
of religious outlook, all link the Reformation to the Middle
Ages. So, too, the problems primarily discussed, however
different their solution from that characteristic of the Middle
Ages, were essentially mediaeval. Sin and grace had been, since
the time of Augustine, if not rather of Tertullian, the very
heart problems of Latin theology. They were so of the Ref
ormation. However Luther himself might reject Aristotle,
the older Protestant philosophy was thoroughly Aristotelian.
Nor, though monasticism was repudiated, was the ascetic view
of the world rejected, least of all by Calvinism.
On the other hand, the Reformation broke the dominance
of the sacramental system which had controlled Christianity
East and West certainly since the second century. Baptism
and the Lord's Supper were preserved and highly valued, but
they were now regarded as seals to the divine promises, not as
exclusive channels of grace. The Holy Spirit, who works when
and how and where He will, uses them for His gracious purposes
doubtless, but not to the exclusion of other means. Salvation
is, therefore, a direct, individual, and personal relationship,
wrought by God, bringing the soul into union with Him,
needing no saintly or priestly intervention. Furthermore,
man's relation to God is not one of debt and credit, of evil acts
481
482 THE BEGINNING OF THE MODERN PERIOD
to be purged and merit to be acquired, but a state of reconcilia
tion of which good works are the natural fruits. Nor was the
Protestant estimate of the normal relations and occupations of
life as the best fields for service to God a less radical departure
from the Middle Ages. These characteristics link the Reforma
tion with the modern world. Yet if one strikes a balance, and
remembers, also, how largely the worldly tendencies of human
ism were suppressed by the Reformation, the movement in
its first century and a half must be reckoned in great measure
a continuance of the Middle Ages. Though great religious
bodies still use Reformation formulas, and bear names then
originating, they no longer move in its atmosphere, but in
various measure indeed in that of modern Christianity.
To assign an exact line of demarcation for this change is
impossible. The alteration was not due to a single leader
or group of leaders. It has modified Christian thought very
unequally. The transformation has not yet been completed,
after more than two centuries, if the Christian world as a whole
is taken into view. It has been aided by a great variety of
causes. One of these has been the steady secularization of
government since the close of the seventeenth century. Even
more important has been the rise of the professional, — other
than clerical, — mercantile, and laboring classes to constantly
increasing education and political influence. In the Reforma
tion age leaders of thought and sharers in government were few.
Their number and independence have been steadily expanding.
This growth has helped to bring about, and, in turn, has been
aided by, an increasing toleration on the part of the state, which
has made easy the enormous subdivision of Protestantism and
the rise of many groups of thinkers not directly associated with,
or opposed to, organized religion.
Yet the most potent instruments in effecting this change
of atmosphere have been the rise of modern science and phi
losophy, with the immense consequent transformations in out
look upon the universe and upon man's position in it; and the
subsequent development of the historic method of examining
and interpreting thought and institutions.
THE RISE OF MODERN SCIENCE 483
SECTION II. THE BEGINNINGS OF MODERN SCIENCE
AND PHILOSOPHY
The early Reformation period conceived of the universe in
Ptolemaic fashion. This earth was viewed as the centre about
which sun and stars revolve. The Renaissance had revived in
Italy Greek speculations of a heliocentric system, and these
were elaborately developed by Nicolaus Copernicus (1473-
1543), of Thorn in Poland, and published in the year of his
death. At the time, they excited slight attention and that
mostly unfavorable. But astronomic science made progress.
Tycho Brahe (1546-1601), though but partially accepting the
Copernican system, multiplied observations. Johann Kepler
(1571-1630), a Copernican, developed these into brilliant
generalizations. Both were pursuing, though uninfluenced
directly by him, the new method of Sir Francis Bacon (1561-
1626), by which inductive experiment was made the basis of
hypothetical generalization. Galileo Galilei (1564-1642), of
Pisa, gave to the world the thermometer, developed the pen
dulum, put mechanical physics on a new basis by experiment,
and, above all, applied the telescope to the study of the heavens.
To him the real triumph of the theory of Copernicus was due.
But its explication, especially in his Dialogue of 1632, led to
bitter philosophical and ecclesiastical opposition, and he was
compelled to abjure it by the inquisition the year following.
The real popular demonstration of the Copernican theory was,
however, the work of Sir Isaac Newton (1642-1727). His
Principia of 1687 made a European sensation, showing as it
did by mathematical demonstration that the motions of the
heavenly bodies are explainable by gravitation^ The effect
of Newton's conclusions was profound. To thinking men, the
physical universe no longer appeared a field of arbitrary divine
action, but a realm of law, interpretable, such was the con
clusion of the science of that age, in strict terms of mechanical
cause and effect. This earth was no longer the centre of all
things, but a mere speck in a vast realm of bodies, many of
infinitely greater size, and all moving in obedience to unchange
able law.
While science" was thus revealing a new heaven and a new
earth, philosophy was no less vigorously challenging the claims
of authority in the name of reason. Rene Descartes (1596-
484 DESCARTES AND SPINOZA
1650), a native of France and a Catholic, spent most of his
active intellectual life in the Netherlands. There he wrote
his Discourse on Method of 1637, his First Philosophy of 1641,
and his Principia of 1644. To his thinking, only that is really
knowledge which the mind fully understands. Mere erudition
is not intelligence. The objects and ideas which present
themselves to the mind are so involved and so dependent one
on another that they must be analyzed and separated into sim
plicity to be really understood. Hence the beginning of all
knowledge is doubt; and no real progress can be made till a
basis, or point of departure, can be found which cannot be
doubted. That Descartes found, with Augustine, in his own
existence as a thinking being. Even in doubting, "I think,
therefore I am." If we examine the contents of this thinking I,
we find in it ideas greater than it could of itself originate, and
since nothing can be without an adequate cause, there must be
a cause great enough and real enough to produce them. Hence
we are convinced of the existence of God, and His relation to
all our thinking. In God thought and being are united. Our
ideas are true and Godlike only as they are clear and distinct
with a logical clarity like the demonstrations of geometry.
Matter, though equally with mind having its source in God,
is in all things the opposite of mind. In the last analysis it
has only extension and the purely mechanical motion imparted
to it by God. Hence animals are merely machines, and the
relations between human bodies and minds caused Descartes
great perplexities.
Yet, influential as the Cartesian philosophy was, it was not
its details which profoundly affected popular thought, but its
assertion that all conceptions must be doubted till proved,
and that any adequate proof must have the certainty of mathe
matical demonstration. These two principles were to have
momentous consequences.
Much less influential in his own age though far more logical
than their author in carrying Descartes's principles to their
logical development, was the Netherlandish Hebrew, Baruch
Spinoza (1632-1677). A pantheist, all is an infinite substance,
all is God or nature, for with him the terms are equivalent,
known in two modes or attributes, thought and extension, of
which all finite persons or attributes are the expression. As to
Descartes, to Spinoza clearness is the test of truth.
LEIBNITZ 485
But how do men know? One influential answer came from
the German mathematician, historian, statesman, and phi
losopher, Gottfried Wilhelm Leibnitz (1646-1716), for the last
forty years of his life librarian in Hanover, and an earnest seeker
of the reunion of Catholicism and Protestantism. Unlike
Spinoza, who saw in the universe one substance, Leibnitz be
lieved substances infinite in number. Each is a "monad,"
an indivisible centre of force. Each mirrors the universe,
though the degree of consciousness in differing monads varies
from practical unconscious to the highest activity. The
greater and clearer the consciousness, the nearer the monad
approaches the divine. God is the original monad, to whose
perception all things are clear. All ideas are wrapped up in the
monad, are innate, and need to be drawrn out to clearness.
Here again is the characteristic test of truth, which Descartes
and Spinoza had presented. No monad influences another;
but all that seems mutual influence is the working of pre-
established harmony, like perfect clocks pointing to the same
hour. Nor do the aggregations of monads which constitute
bodies really occupy space. Each monad is like a mathematical
point, and time and space are simply the necessary aspects
under which their groupings are perceived. God created the
world to exhibit His perfection, and therefore, of all possible
worlds, chose the best. What seems evil is imperfection,
physical pain, and limitation, or moral wrong, which is never
theless necessary in the sense that God could not have made a
better world. Leibnitz's answer was, therefore, that men know
by the elucidation of their innate ideas.
Very different was the answer given by the most influential
English thinker of the close of the seventeenth and opening of
the eighteenth centuries, John Locke (1632-1704). In his fa
mous Essay Concerning Human Understanding of 1690 Locke
denied the existence of innate ideas. The mind is white paper,
on which sensation writes its impressions, which the mind com
bines by reflection into ideas, and the combination of simple
ideas gives rise to more complex ideas. Locke's purpose was to
show that all that claims to be knowledge is justly subject to
criticism as to its reasonableness judged by reason based on
experience. Thus tested, he finds the existence of God dem
onstrated by the argument from cause and effect; morality
is equally demonstrable like the truths of mathematics. Re-
486 LOCKE AND SHAFTESBURY
ligion must be essentially reasonable. It may be above rea
son — beyond experience — but it cannot be contradictory to
reason. These views Locke developed in his Reasonableness of
Christianity of 1695; the Scriptures contain a message beyond
the power of unaided reason to attain, attested by miracles;
but that message cannot be contrary to reason, nor could
even a miracle attest anything essentially unreasonable.
Hence, though sincerely Christian, Locke had little patience
with mystery in religion. For him it was enough to acknowl
edge Jesus as the Messiah, and practise the moral virtues
which He proclaimed, and which are in fundamental accord
with the dictates of a reason which is hardly distinguishable
from enlightened common sense.
Locke was no less influential as an advocate of toleration and
opponent of all compulsion in religion. Religion's only proper
weapon is essential reasonableness. Nor was Locke less forma
tive of political theory in England and America. He had in
deed been preceded in this field, in various directions, by Gro-
tius (1583-1645), Hobbes (1588-1679), and Pufendorf (1632-
1694). In his Treatises on Government of 1690 Locke urged that
men have natural rights to life, liberty, and property. To
secure these, government has been established by the consent
of the governed. In such a state the will of the majority must
rule, and when that will is not carried out, or fundamental
rights are violated, the people have the right of revolution.
The legislative and executive functions should be carefully
discriminated. The legislative is the superior. However
inadequate and fanciful this may be as a historic explanation of
the origin of the state, its influence in the development of
English and American political theory can hardly be over
estimated.
Of considerable significance in the theory of morals was the
view developed by the earl of Shaftesbury (1671-1713) in his
Characteristics of Men of 1711. Hobbes had attempted to
find the basis of morality in man's constitution, but had dis
covered there nothing but pure selfishness. To Locke the
basis which reason discovers is the law of God. Though en
tirely reasonable, morality is still positive to Locke, a divine
command. Shaftesbury now taught that, since man is a being
having personal rights and social relationships, virtue consists
in the proper balancing of selfish and altruistic aims. This
THE RISE OF DEISM 487
harmony is achieved, and the value of actions determined, by
an inward "moral sense." Shaftesbury thus based right and
wrong on the fundamental constitution of human nature itself,
not on the will of God. This gave a reason why even one who
rejected. the divine existence — which was not the case with
Shaftesbury — was nevertheless bound to maintain moral con
duct. It removed the hope of reward or fear of punishment
as prime motives for moral conduct. Atheist and rejector of
morality could no longer be considered, as they had generally
been, equivalent terms. Nor was it difficult for Bishop Joseph
Butler (1692-1752) to preserve Shaftesbury's "moral sense,"
while giving to it the theistic interpretation of "conscience,"
a divinely implanted monitor and judge of conduct.
SECTION III. DEISM AND ITS OPPONENTS. SCEPTICISM
Locke's test of truth was reasonableness, in the sense of con
formity to common sense. He viewed morality as the prime
content of religion. The Newtonian conception of the universe
was of a realm of law, created by a "first cause," and moving
in unchangeable mechanical order. The new knowledge of
foreign nations of long-established civilization and other re
ligions like the Chinese, enlarged men's horizons and made fa
miliar other than Christian culture. All these influences led to
a radical departure in English religious thought, that known as
Deism. As early as 1624 Edward Herbert of Cherbury (1583-
1648) had enumerated the articles of belief alleged to constitute
natural religion, held by all mankind in primitive unspoiled
simplicity, as : God exists ; He is to be worshipped ; virtue is
His true service ; man must repent of wrong-doing ; and there
are rewards and punishments after death. To the later Deists
these seemed a statement of the content of natural, universal
reasonable religion. In 1696 came John Toland's (1670-1722)
Christianity not Mysterious; 1713 saw Anthony Collins's (1676-
1729) Discourse of Freethinking; in 1730 was published Mat
thew Tindal's (1653?-1733) Christianity as Old as Creation.
In these works the main features of the Deistic position were
set forth. All that is acknowledged beyond or above reason
is held on belief without proof. What is believed without proof
is superstition. To be rid of superstition is to be free, hence
the only rational thinker is a freethinker. The worst enemies
488 THE DEISTIC ARGUMENT
of mankind are those who have held men in bondage to super
stition, and the chief examples of these are "priests" of all
sorts. All that is valuable in revelation had already been given
men in natural reasonable religion, hence " Christianity "-
that is, all that is of worth in Christianity — is "as old as crea
tion." All that is obscure or above reason in so-called revela
tion is superstitious and worthless or worse. Miracles are no
real witness to revelation; they are either superfluous, for all
of value in that to which they witness reason already possesses ;
or they are an insult to the perfect workmanship of a Creator
who has set this world running by most perfect mechanical
laws and does not now interfere with its ongoing. Deism thus
seemed to destroy all historic Christianity and authoritative
revelation. It was widely denounced as atheism, yet destruc
tive as it was, not justly. In the thought of its advocates it
was a rescue of religion from bondage to the superstitious and
a return to primitive rational simplicity and purity.
From a modern standpoint the weakness of Deism is evident.
Its primitive universal, rational religion is as much a figment of
the imagination as the primitive unspoiled social and political
state of the unspoiled child of nature so dear to the eighteenth
century. Its assertion that " whatever is," that is, whatever is
natural, "is right," is shallow optimism. It had no sense of
the actual facts of the historic religious development of the race.
Its God was afar off, a being who once for all established cer
tain religious principles, essentially rules of morality, and set
a wonderfully contrived mechanical world in motion with which
He has nothing now to do. Its merit was that it forced con
sideration of the fundamental reasonableness and moral worthi
ness of religious claims. So to criticise and to estimate it is
to measure it by a standard entirely foreign to its age. Neither
its supporters nor its critics could have viewed it from the
standpoint here indicated.
Deism called out many replies, and the chief proof of its
power is that, relatively mediocre men as most of the Deists
were, most of its opponents attempted to meet it by rational
argument, often admitting a considerable share of its method,
though not its results. Some few met it by a flat denial of
any power of reason in the realm of religion. Such was the
answer of the excellent Non juror William Law (1686-1761)
in his reply to Tindal, entitled The Case of Reason (1732).
BERKELEY AND BUTLER 489
Reason, Law argued, not merely does not find truth in religion ;
" it is the cause of all the disorders of our passions, the corrup
tions of our hearts." God is above the power of man to com
prehend, "His own will is wisdom and wisdom is His will.
His goodness is arbitrary."
Less directly designed as an answer to Deism but believed
by himself to be destructive of all " atheism" was the phi
losophy of George Berkeley (1685-1753), a man of most generous
impulses, who attempted to found a missionary college in Ber
muda for the evangelization of the American Indians, lived for
a time in Rhode Island, and in 1734 became bishop of Cloyne
in Ireland. To Berkeley's thinking nothing really exists but
minds and ideas. There is no other knowledge of what is
called matter but an impression in our minds, and since like
can only affect like, our minds must be affected only by other
minds. Since ideas are universal and constant, they must be
the product in our minds of a universal, eternal, and constantly
working mind. Such a mind is God, and to Him all our ideas
are due. But ideas exist not merely subjectively in our minds.
In some sense what we call nature is a range of ideas in the
divine mind, impressed in a definite and constant order on our
minds, though their reality to us is only in our perception of
them in our own minds. By thus denying the reality of
matter Berkeley would destroy that whole conception of the
world as a huge mechanism — a magnified watch — made once
for all by an all-wise Maker, who has nothing now to do with
its ongoing, which Deism had held. For it he would substitute
a universal constant divine spiritual activity. Though this con
ception of Berkeley has always enjoyed high philosophic re
spect, it is too subtle and too contrary to the evidences of his
senses for the average man.
More famous in its own time, yet of far less philosophic ability
or permanent value, was a work of Joseph Butler (1692-1752),
a Presbyterian by descent who had early entered the Church of
England and become bishop of Bristol in 1738, and of Durham
in 1750. His Analogy of Religion of 1736 was a work of immense
labor, candor, and care. In answer to the Deists he starts from
the premises, held equally by the Deists and their opponents,
that God exists, that nature moves in a uniform course, and that
human knowledge is limited. God is admittedly the author
of nature ; if the same difficulties can be raised against the course
490 BUTLER AND HUME
of nature as against revelation, the probability is that both
have the same author. Their positive resemblances also lead
to the same conclusion. Immortality is at least strongly
probable. As present happiness or misery depend on con
duct, it is probable that future will also. Every man is now
in a state of "probation" as regards his use of this life; it is
probable that he is also now on "probation" as to his future
destiny. Our limited knowledge of nature does not warrant
a declaration that revelation is improbable, much less impos
sible, and whether there has actually been a revelation is a
historic question to be tested by its attestation by miracles and
fulfilment of prophecy. Believed widely in its time an unan
swerable answer to Deism, and as such long required in English
and American universities, Butler's cautious balance of proba
bilities utterly fails to meet modern questions, and has been
well criticised as raising more doubts than it answers. Its
most attractive feature is its moral fervor in its exaltation of
the divine regnancy of conscience over human action.
A noteworthy attack alike on Deism and on much of the
current defenses of Christianity against it was made by the
acutest British philosopher of the eighteenth century, David
Hume (1711-1776). Born in Edinburgh, he died in that city.
He lived in France for some years, saw some public employ
ment, wrote a popular but highly Tory History of England,
and won deserved fame as a political economist. During his
last years he was regarded as the friendly, kindly head of the
literary and intellectual circles of his native city. His philo
sophical system was ably set forth in his Treatise of Human
Nature of 1739 ; but this rather youthful publication attracted
little notice. Very different was it when the same ideas were
recast in his Philosophical Essays of 1748 and his Natural His
tory of Religion of 1757. Philosophically, Hume was one of
the keenest of reasoners, standing on the basis of Locke, but
with radical and destructive criticism of Locke's theories and
with most thoroughgoing religious scepticism. Experience
gives us all our knowledge, but we receive it as isolated im
pressions and ideas. All connection between our mental im
pressions as related by cause and effect, or as united and borne
by an underlying substance, are simply the inveterate but
baseless view-points of our mental habit. They are the ways
in which our minds are accustomed to act. What we really
HUME ON MIRACLES 491
perceive is that in our limited observation certain experiences
are associated. We jump to the conclusion that there is a
causal relation between them. So, too, substance is "feigned."
If therefore cause and effect are ruled out, the argument for
a God founded thereon is baseless. The denial of substance
leaves no real permanent I behind my experiences, and leaves
no philosophical basis for immortality. Hume, in whom a
dawning of historic criticism manifested itself, also held that
history shows that Polytheism preceded Monotheism in human
development, and thus history gives no support to the doctrine
of the one originally recognized God of Deism, or to the exist
ence of the simple primitive, rational religion of nature which
Deists claimed. Most of Hume's criticisms were too subtle
and too radical to be very fully understood by either Deists or
their orthodox opponents in his day, against whom they were
equally directed.
Hume's greatest sensation was his criticism of miracles, then
looked upon as the main defense of revelation and Christianity.
His argument was twofold. Experience is the source of all
our knowledge. Our experience witnesses to the uniformity of
nature much more strongly than to the infallibility of human
testimony. Hence the probability that error, mistake, or de
ception has led to the report of a miracle is vastly greater than
that the uniform course of nature has really been interrupted.
Yet, granted that testimony may prove that unusual events
have occurred, that would not prove that they established any
thing, unless it could be further proved that they were wrought
for that special purpose by divine power, which is an even
more difficult task. The positions here assumed have had
lasting effect. Few who now affirm miracles view them, as
the eighteenth century did, as the prime proofs of Christianity.
Rather, the revelation is regarded as carrying faith in the mir
acles far more than their lending support to it. Those who
accept miracles now largely regard the revelation as so super
natural and divine as to render miracles not unfitting as its
accompaniment. Since Hume's criticism, the question of mira
cles has been increasingly felt to be one of peculiar difficulty.
Deism, though soon a good deal weakened in England, still
continued, and extended strongly beyond its borders. It aided
not a little in the development of rationalism in Germany;
but its most powerful influence was in France, where it had
492 DEISM ON THE CONTINENT
many advocates and became fashionable. Chief of these
French supporters was Fran£ois Marie Arouet, or, as he called
himself, Voltaire (1694-1778), who had become familiar with
its tenets during a sojourn in England from 1726 to 1729. In
Voltaire eighteenth-century France had its keenest wit. No
philosopher, vain, self-seeking, but with genuine hatred of
tyranny, especially of religious persecution, no one ever at
tacked organized religion with a more unsparing ridicule.
Such a contest was, of necessity, more sharply drawn in France
than in Great Britain. In the latter country a certain degree
of religious toleration had been achieved, and great divergence
of religious interpretation was practically allowed. In France
dogmatic Roman Catholicism was dominant. The contest
was, therefore, between Deism or Atheism, on the one hand,
and a single assertive type of Christianity, on the other. Vol
taire was a true Deist in his belief in the existence of God and
of a primitive natural religion consisting of a simple morality ;
also in his rejection of all that rested on the authority of Bible
or church. Of the extent and significance of his work in in
fluencing the French mind in directions that were to appear
in the French Revolution there can be no question. Deism
affected the eighteenth century widely. It was substantially
the creed of Frederick the Great of Prussia (1740-1786);
of Joseph II, the Holy Roman Emperor (Austria, 1765-1790) ;
and of the marquis of Pombal (1699-1782), the greatest of
Portuguese statesmen of the century. Nor was Deism less
influential on this side of the Atlantic. Benjamin Franklin
(1706-1790) and Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826) were its ad
herents.
Deism had powerful popular presentation in the brutal,
savage work of Thomas Paine (1737-1809), the son of an Eng
lish Quaker, whose Common Sense of 1776 did great service to
the American Revolution ; nor was his Rights of Man of 1791
less effective in defense of the principles underlying the French
Revolution. In 1795 came his Age of Reason, in which Deism
was presented in its most aggressive form. Though unsparingly
denounced, it left a series of followers, and represented a type
of criticism of the morality of the traditional representation of
the divine nature and dealings, on the basis of an uncritical
and unhistoric treatment of the Scriptures, which found a
belated echo in Robert G. Ingersoll (1833-1899).
GIBBON AND PALEY 493
A sceptical criticism on the early history of Christianity
advanced by the historian Edward Gibbon (1737-1794) in
the fifteenth and sixteenth chapters of his great History of the
Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire (1776) deserves notice,
not for its inherent importance, but for the controversy that it
aroused, and the light that it throws on the thought of the
time. In accounting for the spread of Christianity, Gibbon
gave as reasons its zeal inherited from the Jews, its teaching
of immortality, its claim to miraculous gifts, its strict morality,
and its efficient organization. No modern historian would
probably object to any of these explanations, as far as they go.
What would impress him is their absolute want of compre
hension of the nature of religion, whether Christian or other,
and of the forces by which religion makes conquests. But that
was an ignorance equally shared by Gibbon's critics in the
eighteenth century. The usual orthodox explanation had
been that the first disciples had been so convinced of the truth
of the Gospel by miracles that they were willing to hazard their
lives in its behalf. The excitement roused by Gibbon's rather
superficial explanation was that it supplied other causes, less
directly supernatural, for the spread of Christianity. Its one
permanent result was to aid, with other influences, toward the
historical investigation of the Scriptures and Christian origins,
which was to be so largely the work of the nineteenth century.
The general attitude of the period, and also the general ra
tionalizing of even orthodox Christian presentation in England,
at the close of the eighteenth century is best illustrated in the
work of William Paley (1743-1805). His View of the Evidences
of Christianity of 1794 and Natural Theology of 1802 were
written with remarkable clearness of style and cogency of
reasoning, and long enjoyed high popularity. From a watch,
he argues, we infer a maker, so from the wonderful adaptation
of the human body, the eye, the hand, the muscles, we infer
an almighty Designer. These arguments, therefore, prove the
existence of God. God has made His will the rule of human
action and revealed it to men. The purpose of revelation is
"the proof of a future state of rewards and punishments."
That revelation was given by Christ, and its convincing force
to the first disciples was in the miracles by which it was accom
panied. "They who acted and suffered in the cause acted
and suffered for the miracles." Paley then proceeds to defini-
494 EARLY ENGLISH ARIANISM
tion. "Virtue is the doing good to mankind, in obedience to
the will of God, and for the sake of everlasting happiness."
This prudential and self-regarding estimate of virtue is char
acteristic of Paley's age, as were his emphases on the evidential
character of miracles and on a mechanical demonstration of
the divine existence which the theory of evolution has since
largely robbed of force. Yet it is pleasant to note that Paley's
thought of "doing good to mankind" led him to strenuous
opposition to human slavery.
SECTION IV. ENGLISH UNITARIANISM
It has already been pointed out that on the Continent anti-
Trinitarian views were represented by some Anabaptists (ante,
p. 369) and by the Socinians (ante, pp. 451-453). Both types
penetrated into England. Under Elizabeth "Arian Baptists"
from the Netherlands were burned in 1575. Under James I
Bartholomew Legate and Edward Wightman, of similar views,
have the distinction in 1612 of being the last Englishmen
burned for their faith. With the controversies of the civil-war
period anti-Trinitarian views became more evident. In John
Biddle (1615-1662), an Oxford graduate, Socinianism had a
more learned representative, who suffered much imprison
ment. The great Puritan poet, John Milton (1608-1674), in
clined to Arianism in his later years. Biddle's chief convert
was Thomas Firmin (1632-1697), a London layman, who fur
thered the publication of anti-Trinitarian tracts.
With the dawn of the eighteenth century, with its rational
izing impulses both in orthodox and Deistic circles, and its in
clination to see in morality the essence of religion, these anti-
Trinitarian tendencies were greatly strengthened. The Pres
byterian minister Thomas Emlyn (1663-1741) published his
widely read Inquiry into the Scripture Account of Jesus Christ
in 1702. In 1712 Samuel Clarke (1675-1729), rector of St..
James, Westminster, and deemed the most philosophical of the
Anglican clergy, published his Scripture Doctrine of the Trinity,
in which he sought to demonstrate Arian views by a painstaking
examination of the New Testament. It was, however, among
the Dissenters, especially the Presbyterians and General Bap
tists, that anti-Trinitarian views won the largest following.
In 1717 Joseph Hallet and James Peirce, Presbyterian minis-
ENGLISH UNITARIANISM 495
ters in Exeter, adopted Arianism. The movement spread
widely. The most learned of eighteenth-century Dissenters,
Nathaniel Lardner (1684-1768), was its representative. On the
whole, the Congregationalists and the Particular Baptists were
little affected, and in consequence grew in numbers as the
century went on, surpassing the Presbyterians, who at the time
of the Toleration Act had been the most numerous Non-Con
formist body.
Arianism changed to Socinianism. A further impulse was
given to the movement when a clergyman of the establishment,
Theophilus Lindsey (1723-1808), who was already a Socinian,
circulated a petition which received some two hundred and
fifty signatures asking that clergymen be relieved from subscrip
tion to the Thirty-nine Articles, and pledge their fidelity to
the Scriptures alone. Parliament in 1772 refused to receive
it. In 1773 Lindsey withdrew from the establishment, and
the next year organized a Unitarian Church in London.
Closely associated with Lindsey was Joseph Priestley (1733-
1804), a Dissenting clergyman, an eminent chemist, the dis
coverer of oxygen, a sympathizer with the American and
French Revolutions, who spent the last ten years of his life
in Pennsylvania. Parliament in 1779 amended the Toleration
Act by substituting profession of faith in the Scriptures for
the required acceptance of the doctrinal part of the Thirty-
nine Articles, and removed all penal acts against deniers of the
Trinity in 1813. This older English Unitarianism was formal
and intellectual, clear in its rejection of "creeds of human
composition," and insistence on salvation by character. It
was often intellectually able, but had little ^influence on pop
ular religious life. Its effect in producing a similar move
ment in New England was considerable, though that grew
also out of the general rationalizing tendencies of the eighteenth
century, and was on the whole less dryly intellectual than its
counterpart in England.
SECTION V. PIETISM IN GERMANY
The development of a scholastic Lutheranism has already
been noted (ante, pp. 441-444). Though nominally based on
the Scriptures, it was practically a fixed dogmatic interpreta
tion, rigid, exact, and demanding intellectual conformity.
496 SCHOLASTIC LUTHERANISM
Emphasis was laid on pure doctrine and the sacraments, as
constituting the sufficient elements of the Christian life. In
some respects the field had grown narrower than that of Roman
Catholicism, for if Catholicism was equally dogmatic regarding
belief and sacraments, it also laid an emphasis on good works,
which dogmatic Lutheranism rejected. For that vital rela
tionship between the believer and God which Luther had
taught had been substituted very largely a faith which con
sisted in the acceptance of a dogmatic whole. The layman's
role was largely passive, to accept the dogmas which he was
assured were pure, to listen to their exposition from the pulpit,
to partake of the sacraments and share in the ordinances of the
church, these were the practical sum of the Christian life.
Some evidences of a deeper piety, indeed, existed, of which
the hymns of the age are ample proof, and doubtless many in
dividual examples of real and inward religious life were to be
found, but the general tendency was external and dogmatic.
It was the tendency often, though only partially justly, called
"dead orthodoxy."
Pietism was a breach with these tendencies, an assertion of
the primacy of the feeling in Christian experience, a vindication
for the laity of an active share in the upbuilding of the Chris
tian life, and the assertion of a strict ascetic attitude toward
the world. Many sources have been assigned to it, Anabap
tist influences, Roman Catholic mystical piety, the example
of the Reformed ecclesiastical life of Holland or England. The
subject is a difficult one. All these may have contributed
something, but so far as a definite cause for Pietism can be
given it is to be found in the teaching and example of one of the
most notable religious figures of the seventeenth century,
Philipp Jakob Spener.
Spener was born on January 13, 1635, in Rappoltsweiler, in
Alsace. The True Christianity of the German ascetic mystic,
Johann Arndt (1555-1621) roused him, and its impressions
were deepened by translations of some of the edificatory
treatises of the English Puritans. His student years in Strass-
burg familiarized him with Biblical exegesis, and he saw there
a church discipline and a care in catechetical instruction far
beyond what was customary in most Lutheran circles. Further
studies in Geneva deepened these impressions without weaning
him from Lutheranism. In 1666 he became chief pastor in the
SPENER'S AIMS AND WORK 497
prosperous commercial city of Frankfort. He felt the need
of church discipline, but found himself hindered, because all
authority was yi the hands of the city government. Under
such leadership as was permitted him, catechetical instruction
speedily improved. His first considerable innovation occurred
in 1670, "when he gathered in his own house a little group of
like-minded people for Bible reading, prayer, and the discus
sion of the Sunday sermons — the whole aiming at the deepen
ing of the individual spiritual life. Of these circles, to which
the name collegia pietatis was given (hence Pietism), the first
was that in Spener's home.
These plans for cultivating a warmer Christian life Spener
put forth in his Pia desideria of 1675. The chief evils of the
time he pictured as governmental interference, the bad example
of the unworthy lives of some of the clergy, the controversial
interpretation of theology, and the drunkenness, immorality, and
self-seeking of the laity. As measures of reform he proposed
the gathering within the various congregations of circles —
ecclesiolce in ecclesia — for Bible reading; and since all believers
are priests — a Lutheran contention which had been practically
forgotten — for mutual watch and helpfulness. Christianity
is far more a life than an intellectual knowledge. Controversy
is unprofitable. Better training for the clergy is desirable.
An experimental knowledge of religion, and a befitting life
should be demanded of them. A new type of preaching should
be practised, designed to build up the Christian life of the
hearers, not primarily controversial or exhibitory of the argu
mentative abilities of the preacher. That only is genuine Chris
tianity which shows itself in the life. Its normal beginning is
a spiritual transformation, a conscious new birth. Spener also
showed certain ascetic tendencies, like the English Puritans,
inculcating moderation in food, drink, and dress, and rejecting
the theatre, dances, and cards, which contemporary Lutheran-
ism regarded as "indifferent things." Spener's efforts en
countered bitter opposition, and aroused enormous contro
versy. He was accused of heresy. Falsely so, as indicating
any intentional departure from Lutheran standards ; but rightly
so in the sense that his spirit and ideals were totally unlike
those of contemporary Lutheran orthodoxy. His work involved
a going back to the Scriptures from the creeds and theological
interpretations of dogmatism. Spener's feeling that, if "the
498 SPENER AND FRANCKE
heart" was right, differences of intellectual interpretation were
relatively unimportant, was not merely opposed to the Lu
theran emphasis on "pure doctrine," it was destructive of it.
The two points of view were mutually exclusive. Spener un
doubtedly greatly popularized familiarity with the Bible, and
undermined the authority of confessional standards, as giving
in final logical form what the Scriptures had to teach. A result
of this Biblical study was to prepare the way for, rather than to
effect, an investigation of the nature and history of the Scrip
tures themselves. Spener greatly improved the religious in
struction of youth, and achieved his purpose of introducing a
more strenuous, Biblically fed, and warmer popular Christian life.
At Frankfort some of Spener's disciples, in spite of his pro
tests, withdrew from church worship and the sacraments.
Spener's meetings consequently met with police opposition,
and he was glad, in 1686, to accept a call to Dresden as court
preacher.
Meanwhile, the Pietist movement had spread to the Univer
sity of Leipzig. In 1686 one of the younger instructors, August
Hermann Francke (1663-1727), and a few associates, founded
there a collegium philobiblicum for the study of the Scriptures.
Its members were at first instructors, its method scientific, and
it had the approval of the university authorities. But in 1687
Francke experienced what he regarded as a divine new birth
while in Liineburg and engaged in writing a sermon on John
2031. A couple of months' stay with Spener, in Dresden, com
pleted his acceptance of Pietism. In 1689 Francke was back
in Leipzig, lecturing to the students and to the townspeople
with great following. Leipzig was soon in a good deal of tur
moil. An electoral edict soon forbad the meeting of citizens
in " conventicles." Undoubtedly Francke's lectures led some
students to neglect other studies and to assume a critical at
titude. Under the leadership of the Leipzig professor of the
ology, Johann Benedict Carpzov (1639-1699), the university
authorities limited Francke's work. Carpzov became one of
the most unwearied of Spener's opponents. Francke's position
became so uncomfortable that he was glad, in 1690, to accept
a call to Erfurt as "deacon."
Meanwhile Spener's path in Dresden was not easy. The
Saxon clergy looked upon him as a stranger; the two Saxon
universities, Leipzig and Wittenberg, jopposed him. His meet-
THE UNIVERSITY OF HALLE 499
ings for spiritual upbuilding developed criticism. The Elector,
John George III (1647-1691), took offense at Spener's pastoral
reproof of his drunkenness. When, therefore, an invitation
to Berlin came from the Elector of Brandenburg, Frederick III
(1688-1701), who was to become King Frederick I of Prussia
(1701-1713), Spener willingly accepted it in 1691. Though
Spener never won his new sovereign for personal Pietism, he
had much support from Frederick, and his years in Berlin, to
his death, on February 5, 1705, were his happiest and most
successful.
While in Berlin Spener was able to do his greatest service
to Pietism. Christian Thomasius (1655-1728), a rationalist
in the sense of Locke, a critic of the theological hair-splitting
of the day, a creator of German jurisprudence, the first to sub
stitute German for Latin as the language of the university in
struction, a defender of religious toleration, a sceptic regarding
witchcraft, the opponent of the judicial use of torture, had been
driven from Leipzig in 1690 by the hostility of the theologians.
His popularity in the student body was great. Thomasius
was no Pietist, though he disliked the persecution of the Piet
ists, and had done his utmost to aid Francke in the contest
with the Leipzig authorities. The Elector of Brandenburg,
long desirous of having a university of his own, improved the
exile of Thomasius to found a university in Halle, in 1691,
which was formally opened in 1694, and in which Thomasius
was to lead the faculty of law till his death.
Meanwhile Francke had many difficulties in Erfurt. His
energetic introduction of Pietistic measures roused the oppo
sition of the clergy of the city. Carpzov's hostility pursued
him, and in 1691 he was expelled by the authorities. Spener
now procured for him from the Elector appointment to a pro
fessorship in Halle, and the pastorate of the neighboring vil
lage of Glaucha, and also the appointment of colleagues of
Pietistic sympathies. From the first Francke dominated the
theological methods and instruction in Halle, though he did
not become formally a member of the theological faculty till
1698. Till his death, in 1727, Francke made and kept Halle
a centre of Pietism.
Francke was a man of unbounded energy and organizing
genius. His parish of Glaucha was a model of pastoral faith
fulness. His lectures in the university were largely exegetical
500 FRANCKE IN HALLE. MISSIONS
and experiential ; and his combination of the classroom and
parish practice was highly helpful for his students. In 1695
he began a school for poor children, and such was its fame that
children from outside were offered to him in such numbers
that in 1696 he established his famous fitting school, the
Pcedagogium. To these, in 1697, he added a Latin school.
These educational foundations were soon renowned, and all
were managed in the spirit of Pietism. At his death two thou
sand two hundred children were under instruction. In 1698
he established his famous Orphan House, which numbered a
hundred and thirty-four inmates when he died. All these
foundations, most of which have continued to the present,
were begun almost without means, and Francke sincerely be
lieved were maintained in answer to prayer. Gifts flowed in
from all parts of Germany. Without doubting Francke' s faith,
it is but just to note that he understood the art of honorable
publicity, and of enlisting friends. The number of nobles who
were patrons of his foundations was really remarkable. One
further foundation may be called almost his own. That was
the Bible Institute, established in 1710 by his friend, Karl
Hildebrand, Freiherr von Canstein (1667-1719), for the publi
cation of the Scriptures and their circulation in inexpensive
form. The institute has done a noble work to the present day.
One notable feature of these activities in Halle was the zeal
for missions there aroused. At a time when Protestants gen
erally still failed to recognize the missionary obligation, Francke
and his associates were awake to it. When Frederick IV (1699-
1730), of Denmark, wished to send the first Protestant mission
aries to India, in 1705, establishing them in 1706 in Tranque-
bar, then belonging to Denmark, he found them among
Francke's students in Halle, Bartholomaus Ziegenbalg and
Heinrich Pliitchau. During the eighteenth century not less
than sixty foreign missionaries went forth from the University
of Halle and its associated foundations, of whom the most
famous was Christian Friedrich Schwartz (1726-1798), who
labored, from 1750 to his death, in India. Certainly Francke's
name deserves high place on the roll of missionary leadership.
By the time of Francke's death, in 1727, Pietism had passed
its high-water mark. It produced no further leaders equal in
ability to Spener and Francke. It continued to spread in Ger
many, notably in Wiirttemberg. A statistical estimate is diffi-
RESULTS OF PIETISM 501
cult, as Pietists did not separate from the Lutheran Churches ;
but Pietism undoubtedly affected Germany very widely and
for good. It fostered a more vital type of piety. It greatly im
proved the spiritual quality of the ministry, preaching, and the
Christian training of the young. It increased the share of the
laity in the life of the church. It greatly augmented familiarity
with the Bible, and the devotional study of the Scriptures.
Its shadows were its insistence on a conscious conversion
through struggle as the only normal method of entrance into
the kingdom of God, its ascetic attitude toward the world,
illustrated in Francke's severe repression of play among the
children in his foundations, its censorious judgments on those
who were not Pietists as irreligious, and its neglect of the in
tellectual elements in religion. It produced very few intellec
tual leaders. But, on the whole, the judgment on Pietism must
be predominantly favorable. It did a service of great value
for the religious life of Protestant Germany.
One fruit of Pietism deserves notice in a contribution of value
made to the interpretation of church history by one of the
most radical of the Pietists, Gottfried Arnold (1666-1714), a
friend of Spener, for a short time a professor in Giessen, and
thenceforward living in comparative retirement in Quedlinburg.
Since the Reformation church history had been polemic and
had regarded all thinkers as to be rejected whom the church
of their own age rejected. In his Unparteiische Kirchen und
Ketzer-Historie of 1699 and 1700 Arnold introduced a new con
ception. He had read much of the ancient heretics. No man
is to be deemed a heretic because his own age so deemed him.
He is to be judged on his own merits, and even the views of
so-called heretics have their place in the history of Christian
thought. As is always a danger to a man who has conceived
a fruitful idea, Arnold pushed his interpretation rather to the
conclusion that there had been more truth with the heretics
than with the orthodox. Yet he gave to church history a
forward step of decided importance.
SECTION VI. ZINZENDORF AND MORAVIANISM
One of the most notable results of the Pietistic awakening,
though far from approved by the Pietists in general, was the
reconstitution of the Moravian Brethren, under the leadership
502 ZINZENDORF'S EARLY LIFE
of Zinzendorf. Nicolaus Ludwig, Graf von Zinzendorf, was
born in Dresden, on May 26, 1700. His father was a high
official of the Saxon electoral court and a friend of Spener.
Zinzendorf's father died shortly after his son's birth, the
mother married again, and the boy was brought up, rather
solitary and introspective, by his grandmother, the Pietistic
Katherine von Gersdorff. Even as a boy he was marked by
the two traits which always characterized his religious life —
passionate personal devotion to Christ and the conviction
that God is only known as Christ, at least in Christianity.
From the time he was ten till his seventeenth year he studied
in Francke's Poedagogium in Halle. Its rigor repelled him,
but he gradually came to appreciate Francke's zeal, and his
religious nature was quickened in 1715 in connection with
his first communion. The insistence of his family that he should
enter public employment sent him to Wittenberg from 1716
to 1719 to study law. Though a decided Pietist, his experi
ences in Wittenberg gave him a kindlier feeling than before
toward orthodox Lutheranism. In 1719 and 1720 he took a
long journey to Holland and France, forming the acquaintance
of many distinguished men, and making his religious principles
clearly, though tactfully, evident. On his return journey
through Castell he fell in love with his cousin, but he thought
Graf Heinrich XXIX, of Reuss, a more favored suitor, and
resigned his pretensions, believing that God thereby had indi
cated some work for him to do. He ultimately married, in
1722, Graf Heinrich's sister, Erdmute Dorothea, who made
him a most sympathetic wife.
The wishes of his relatives led him to enter the electoral
service in Dresden in 1721. Yet he was primarily interested
in cultivating the "heart-religion," in the Pietistic sense,
among his friends in Dresden, and even more on his estate of
Berthelsdorf, about seventy miles east of Dresden, where as
patron he appointed his like-minded friend, Johann Andreas
Rothe, to the pastorate. Here in wholly unlooked-for fashion
his life-work was to meet him.
The old Hussite church of Bohemia had fallen on evil days.
Part had found refuge in Poland, where it had long maintained
its episcopal constitution, but finding the difficulties increas
ing, had preserved it by persuading Frederick Ill's Calvin-
istic court preacher in Berlin, Daniel Ernst Jablonski, of the
THE MORAVIANS 503
Polish Hussite church by ancestry and training, to accept
ordination to the bishopric in 1699. The consequences of the
Thirty Years' War to Bohemian Protestantism had been de
structive, and it had persisted in Bohemia and the neigh
boring province of Moravia only in concealment and under
persecution. As early as 1722 the German-speaking Mora
vians began to seek a refuge in Saxony under the leadership of
the carpenter, Christian David. Zinzendorf allowed them to
found a village on his Berthelsdorf estate, which they named
Herrnhut, and where they collected in considerable numbers.
Zinzendorf at first paid little attention to these immigrants be
sides allowing them a refuge, but by 1727 he began their spiri
tual leadership. The task was hard at first. The refugees
were divided, their aim was a separate church, while that of
Zinzendorf and Rothe was incorporation in the Saxon Lutheran
state church, though with special additional meetings as in
Spener's plan of collegia pietatis. On the other hand, local-
customs permitted an organized village to give itself a secular
organization and make its own rules. Under these customs
Herrnhut chose "elders" for its secular direction in 1727.
Zinzendorf, as lord of the estate, had a certain indefinite right
of leadership, and all this was sealed by a communion service
of such spiritual power in Berthelsdorf on August 13, 1727,
that that date has generally been reckoned that of the rebirth
of the Moravian Church.
Out of these institutions for the leadership of the village of
Herrnhut, originally secular, a spiritual organization soon
grew. An executive committee of four developed from the
eldership, and by 1730 was regarded as exercising ministerial
functions. A general eldership was formed, of which the first
holder, in 1733, was Leonhard Dober. To Zinzendorf the
Herrnhut society soon seemed a body of soldiers of Christ,
to advance His cause at home and abroad — a new Protestant
monasticism without vows or celibacy, but bound to their
Lord by daily prayer and worship. The young men and the
young women were separated from ordinary family life by 1728,
and each class placed under strict superintendence. Children
were brought up away from their parents — after the manner
of the Halle Orphan House. The community even attempted
to regulate choices in marriage. The ideal was that of a
community separate from the world, yet ready to send forces
504 MORAVIAN MISSIONS
to work anywhere for Christ's kingdom. Yet two tendencies
confused this development. The Moravian element would
gladly have seen the establishment of a separate denomination,
a full revival of the ancient Moravian Church. Zinzendorf
clung firmly to the Pietistic idea of an ecclesiola in ecclesia.
He would keep them part of the Lutheran state church, only
a special group within it, where a warmer spiritual life, a " heart-
religion," should be fostered. The movement soon met much
opposition, not merely from orthodox Lutherans, but from
Pietists, both by reason of Herrnhut's peculiarities, and as
separatist. On the whole, the separatist tendencies slowly won
the upper hand.
The Moravian willingness to go anywhere in the service of
Christ soon gave a noble missionary development to the move
ment which it has never lost. No Protestant body had been
so awake to the duty of missions, and none is so consecrated
to this service in proportion to its numbers to the present day.
A journey to Copenhagen to attend the coronation of Chris
tian VI (1730-1746) of Denmark brought Zinzendorf into
contact with natives of the Danish West India Islands and of
Greenland. Zinzendorf returned to Herrnhut aflame with mis
sionary enthusiasm. As a result Leonhard Dober and David
Nitschmann began a mission to the West Indies in 1732, and
Christian David and others to Greenland in 1733. Two years
later a considerable party, led by August Gottlieb Spangenberg
(1704-1792), began labors in Georgia. For this outreaching
work Nitschmann was ordained a bishop — the first of the mod
ern Moravian succession — by Jablonski in 1735.
Meanwhile Zinzendorf 's relations with the Saxon government
were becoming strained. The Austrian authorities complained,
without ground, that he was enticing their subjects. Ecclesi
astical complaints were renewed, and on March 20, 1736, he
was banished from Saxony. Zinzendorf found opportunity to
carry on his work in Ronneburg in western Germany and in
the Baltic provinces. In 1737 he was ordained bishop by
Jablonski in Berlin. In 1738-1739 he journeyed to the West
India Islands ; in 1741 he was in London, where Moravian work
had been several years in progress. By December, 1741, Zin
zendorf was in New York, and on Christmas he named the set
tlement which Moravians from Georgia were beginning to
effect in Pennsylvania, Bethlehem — a town destined to become
THE MORAVIAN CHURCH 505
the American headquarters of the movement. Zinzendorf s
sojourn in America was full of activities. He made great efforts
toward a union >of all the scattered German Protestant forces
in Pennsylvania, he began missions to the Indians, he organ
ized seven or eight Moravian congregations and planted schools.
Itineracy was established under the superintendence of Peter
Bohler. In January, 1743, Zinzendorf sailed for Europe, and
in December, 1744, Spangenberg was put in charge of all the
American work as bishop. Its most famous Indian mission
ary was David Zeisberger (1721-1808), who worked among the
Creeks of Georgia from 1740, and from 1743 to his death in
labor for the Iroquois.
Herrnhut thus became a hive of missionary activity. Mis
sions were begun in Surinam, Guiana, Egypt, and South Africa.
In 1771, after repeated attempts, a permanent mission was
established in Labrador. The names of its early mission fields
show one characteristic of Moravian effort. They were pre
vailingly hard places, requiring peculiar patience and devotion,
and this trait characterizes Moravian missionary labors to the
present.
Meanwhile, in spite of Zinzendorf's dislike of separatism,
Moravianism was becoming more fully a church. In 1742 it
was so recognized in Prussia by the government. By 1745 the
Moravian Church was thoroughly organized with bishops,
elders, and deacons, though its government was, and still is,
more Presbyterian than Episcopal. The English Parliament
by a law of 1749 recognized it as "an ancient Protestant Epis
copal Church." Yet Zinzendorf did not give up his theory of
an ecclesiola in ecclesia. Negotiations with the Saxon authori
ties resulted in his recall from banishment in 1747, the accep
tance of the Augsburg Confession by the Moravian body the
next year, and its recognition in 1749 as a portion of the Saxon
state church, with its own special services. By this time Mora
vianism was developing a liturgy of much beauty and a hym-
nody of large fulness.
During the time of his banishment Zinzendorf and some of the
Moravians developed certain theological and cultural peculiar
ities that were the source of deserved criticism. His emphasis
on relation to Christ as the heart of religion took on sometimes
a sentimental expression in word and hymn. Since Christ, to
his thinking, was the Creator, our relation to God the Father is
506 MORAVIAN CHARACTERISTICS
as to the Father of Christ. Since the Holy Spirit effects the
new birth, the designation "Mother" seemed to him appropri
ate. Zinzendorf always made much of the sufferings of Christ,
and brought Christian experience into connection with His
wounds in a way that was at once fanciful and sentimental.
Peculiarly was this the case with His wounded side. Zinzen
dorf pictured the church as drawn from the side of Christ as
Eve from that of Adam. Zinzendorf s insistence that Chris
tians must become as little children to enter the kingdom of
God led to much puerility of expression. These peculiarities
were at the height of their manifestation between 1747 and 1749,
but in large measure they corrected themselves. This period
was called by the Moravians themselves "the sifting time."
Zinzendorf himself ultimately largely turned away from them.
Yet, at the most, they must be regarded as but blemishes on
the character of one who could say of his devotion to Christ,
as few can: "I have one passion. It is He."
Zinzendorf 's life from 1749 to 1755 was spent mostly in
England. His property had been spent unstintedly for the
Moravians, and he now found himself almost bankrupt. His
debts were assumed, as was fitting, by the Moravian body, and
gradually discharged. This financial need led to a growth in
Moravian constitutional development. A collegiate director
ate was established, which soon became a board of control,
by which Moravian affairs were superintended, and the taxes
paid by the several congregations soon led to their representa
tion in a general synod, meeting at regular intervals.
Zinzendorf s last few years were spent chiefly in pastoral
activities. His strength had been lavishly spent, and he was
bereaved of his wife and only son. On May 9, 1760, he died
in Herrnhut.
The Moravian Church, which Zinzendorf had done so much
to renew and inspire, was firmly grounded, so that his death
made no serious breach. It was fortunate, however, that its
practical leadership fell to Spangenberg, who was called back
from America to Herrnhut in 1762, and continued his guidance
to his death, thirty years later. Not a man of genius and en
thusiasm like Zinzendorf, he wras marked by equal devotion,
great practical sense, and high organizing abilities. Under his
strong, wise guidance Moravianism strengthened and grew;
its criticised peculiarities were generally discarded. His work
EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY ENGLAND 507
was quiet and unpicturesque but wholly useful. The Mo
ravian Church took its accredited place among the families of
Christendom. • It gained increasing good-will in Germany,
though sufficient of Zinzendorf's ecclesioke in ecclesia remained
to prevent a rapid numerical growth in that land.
SECTION VII. WESLEY AND METHODISM
The condition of religion in England in the early part of the
eighteenth century has already been described (ante, pp. 485-
491). The end of the struggles of the seventeenth century
had been marked by a general spiritual lethargy in the estab
lishment and among Dissenters alike. Rationalism had pene
trated all classes of religious thinkers, so that even among the
orthodox Christianity seemed little more than a system of mo
rality supported by divine sanctions. Butler (ante, pp, 489, 490)
may stand as typical. His frigid probabilities may have con
vinced some intellects, but they can have led few men to action.
There were able preachers, but the characteristic sermon was
the colorless essay on moral virtues. Outreaching work for
the unchurched was but scanty. The condition of the lower
classes was one of spiritual destitution. Popular amusements
were coarse, illiteracy wide-spread, law savage in its enforce
ment, jails sinks of disease and iniquity. Drunkenness was
more wide-spread than at any other period in English history.
Furthermore, Great Britain stood on the eve of the indus
trial revolution that was to transform it in the last third
of the eighteenth century from agriculture to manufacture.
James Watt (1736-1819) patented the first really effective
steam-engine in 1769. James Hargreaves (?-1778) patented
the spinning-jenny in 1770. Richard Arkwright (1732-1792)
brought out the spinning-machine in 1768. Edmund Cart-
wright (1743-1823) invented the power-loom in 1784. Josiah
Wedgwood (1730-1795) made the Staffordshire potteries effec
tive from 1762 onward. The industrial and social changes,
and problems consequent upon the changes, were of the widest
importance, and of themselves involved readjustments of im
mense practical religious consequence.
There were not wanting men and movements, early in the
eighteenth century, looking toward better things. Bishop
Berkeley's missionary zeal has already been seen (ante, p. 489).
508 THE RELIGIOUS SOCIETIES
William Law was not only a vigorous opponent of Deism
(ante, p. 488) but his Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life
of 1728 profoundly influenced John Wesley, and remains one
of the monuments of English hortatory literature, though it is
to be feared now seldom read. The Congregationalist, Isaac
Watts (1674-1748), long since forgotten as a theologian, has
well been called "the founder of modern English hymnody."
His Hymns of 1707 and The Psalms of David, Imitated in the
Language of the New Testament of 1719 broke down the prej
udice on both sides of the Atlantic then existing in non-
prelatical English-speaking circles against the use of all but
rhymed passages of Scripture. They express a deep and vital
piety.
Some combined efforts of significance were being made for
a warmer religious life. Such were the "societies," the earliest
of which was formed by a group of young men in London
about 1678, for prayer, reading the Scriptures, the cultivation
of a religious life, frequent communion, aid to the poor, soldiers,
sailors, and prisoners, and encouragement of preaching. They
spread rapidly. By 1700 there were nearly a hundred in Lon
don alone, and they were to be found in many parts of England
and even in Ireland. One of these societies was formed by
John Wesley's father, Samuel Wesley, in Ep worth in 1702.
In many ways they resembled Spener's collegia pietatis (ante,
p. 497), but they had no Spener to further them. They were
composed almost exclusively of communicants of the estab
lishment. Many of the clergy looked upon the movement as
"enthusiastic," or as would now be said fanatical, and after
1710 it measurably declined, though the "societies" were to
continue and be of importance in the beginnings of Method
ism. These "societies" gave the pattern to a more outreach-
ing work, initiated by Thomas Bray (1656-1730). Bray was
appointed commissary of Henry Compton, bishop of London
(1675-1713), in Maryland in 1696, and in 1699 and 1700 was
in that colony strengthening Anglican churches. Impressed
with the need of Bibles, libraries, and religious literature, he
founded the Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, on
March 8, 1699. Convocation supported it, and led to the
foundation on June 27, 1701, of the Society for the Propagation
of the Gospel in Foreign Parts, which was to develop into a
great missionary society. Both have carried on their work in
THE WESLEYS 509
increasing measure to the present. Both were strictly Anglican
and to the work of the latter-named the establishment of Epis
copacy in NeW England and its development in the American
colonies were primarily due.
Yet these efforts were at best local and partial in their^ influ
ence. The mass of the people of England was in spiritual
lethargy, yet blindly conscious of sin and convinced of the
reality of 'future reward and retribution. Emotions of loyalty
to Christ, of salvation through Him, of a present transform
ing faith had not been aroused. It needed the appeal of vivid
spiritual earnestness — directed to conviction of the heart rather
than to considerations of prudence or cold logical argument.
That a profound transformation was effected in England, the
results of which flowed in beneficent streams to all English-
speaking • lands, was primarily the work of three men — the
brothers John and Charles Wesley and George Whitefield-
whose labors were to make England and America vastly differ
ent spiritually, and have put those lands permanently into
debt to them.
The parents of the Wesley brothers were of Non-Conformist
ancestry. Both grandfathers had been among the ejected clergy
of 1662. Their father, Samuel Wesley (1662-1735), had pre
ferred the ministry of the establishment, and was, from 1695 to
his death, rector of the rough country parish of Epworth. A
man of earnest religious disposition, he was somewhat unprac
tical, a writer of a Life of Christ in Verse and of a commentary
on the book of Job. Their mother, Susanna (Annesley), was
a woman of remarkable strength of character, like her husband
a devoted Anglican. The sons took much from either parent,
but perhaps more of force from the mother. In a household
of nineteen children, even if eight died in infancy, hard work
and stringent economy were perforce the rule. Of this large
brood John was the fifteenth and Charles the eighteenth.
John Wesley was born on June 17, 1703, Charles on Decem
ber 18, 1707. Both were saved with difficulty from the burn
ing rectory in 1709, an event that made an ineffaceable impres
sion on the mind of John, who thenceforth regarded himself
as literally ua brand snatched from the burning." In 1714
John entered the Charterhouse School, in London, and Charles
the Westminster School two years later. Both boys distin
guished themselves for scholarship. In 1720 John entered
510 THE METHODIST CLUBS. WHITEFIELD
Christ Church College, Oxford, whither Charles followed him
six years after, and such was John's intellectual attainment
that, in 1726, he was chosen a Fellow of Lincoln College. To
become a candidate for that honor John must be in holy orders,
and therefore, on September 25, 1725, he was ordained a deacon.
With his ordination the spiritual struggles began which were
to last till his conversion, in 1738, and perhaps in a sense beyond
that time.
From 1726 to 1729 John Wesley was for the most part his
father's assistant. On September 22, 1728, he was ordained
a priest. During his absence from Oxford, in the spring of
1729, Charles Wesley and two fellow students, Robert Kirk-
ham and William Morgan, formed a little club, primarily for
progress in their studies, but which soon engaged in reading
helpful books and frequent communion. On his return to
Oxford in November, 1729, John Wesley became the leader of
the group, which soon attracted other students. Under his
guidance it sought to realize William Law's ideals of a conse
crated life. Under Morgan's influence it began visitation of the
prisoners in the Oxford jail in August, 1730. The members
fasted. Their ideals were high-churchly. They were derided
by the university. They were called the "Holy Club/' and
finally some student hit upon a nickname that stuck, the
"Methodists" — though the name had been in currency in the
previous century. They were very far as yet from what
Methodism was to be. They were still a company painfully
bent on working out the salvation of their own souls. As
matters then were, they more resembled the Anglo-Catholic
movement of the nineteenth century than the Methodism of
history.
An important accession to the club, early in 1735, was George
Whitefield. Born in Gloucester on December 16, 1714, the son
of an inn-keeper, he had grown up in poverty, entering Oxford
in 1733. A severe illness in the spring of 1735 brought a crisis
in his religious experience, from which he emerged in joyous
consciousness of peace with God. In June, 1736, Whitefield
sought and received episcopal ordination, and at once, young
as he was, began his marvellous career as a preacher. No
Anglo-Saxon of the eighteenth century showed such pulpit
power. A man absolutely without denominational feeling, in
an age when such feelings were usually intense, he was ready
WHITEFIELD. THE WESLEYS IN GEORGIA 511
to preach anywhere, and in any pulpit open to him. Sometimes
censorious as to the genuineness of religious experiences unlike
his own, his nature was in the highest degree simple and un-
self-seeking. His message was the Gospel of God's forgiving
grace, and of peace through acceptance of Christ by faith, and
a consequent life of joyful service. His few printed sermons
give little sense of his power. Dramatic, pathetic, appeal
ing, with a voice of marvellous expressiveness, the audiences
of two continents were as wax melted before him. A large
part of his active ministry was spent in America. In 1738 he
was in Georgia. In 1739 he was back in America, and his
preaching in New England in 1740 was accompanied by the
greatest spiritual upheaval ever there witnessed, the "Great
Awakening"; nor was his success less in the middle colonies,
though there and in New England there was great division of
feeling as to the permanent spiritual value of his work. The
years 1744 to 1748 saw him again on this side of the Atlantic,
once more in 1751 and 1752; again in 1754 and 1755. His
sixth visit was from 1763 to 1765. In 1769 he came for his last
preaching tour, and died in Newburyport, Mass., on September
30, 1770. He had given himself unstintedly to the service of
the American churches of every Protestant family. He was
no organizer. He left no party to bear his name, but he awak
ened thousands.
None of the leaders of the Methodist Club was destined long
to remain in Oxford, nor did their movement have much influ
ence on the university, which was then in scholastic and re
ligious ebb. The death of their father on April 25, 1735, whom
John Wesley would gladly have succeeded, if possible, in Ep-
worth, left the Wesleys less bound to home, and both now
gained employment as missionaries to the new colony of Georgia,
the settlement of which had been begun by General Oglethorpe,
in 1733. They sailed in October, 1735. On the voyage they
were unremitting in religious exercises and efforts for their
fellow passengers; but in the ship was a company of twenty-
six Moravians, headed by Bishop David Nitschmann. The
cheerful courage of this company in a storm convinced John
Wesley that the Moravians had a trust in God that was not
yet his. From them he learned much. Soon after reaching
Savannah he met Spangenberg (ante, pp. 504-506), who asked
him the embarrassing question : "Do you know Jesus Christ?"
512 THE WESLEYS IN GEORGIA. MORAVIANISM
Wesley answered: "I know He is the Saviour of the world."
Spangenberg responded : "True, but do you know He has saved
you?"
The Wesleys' labors in Georgia were strenuous, yet most un
successful. Charles Wesley returned home in disgust and ill
health in 1736. John continued. He showed his marvellous
linguistic abilities by conducting services in German, French,
and Italian. In May, 1737, he founded a little society in
Savannah for cultivating the warmer religious life. He worked
indefatigably, yet with little peace of mind or comfort to others.
He was a punctilious high-churchman. He lacked tact. A
conspicuous case was that of Sophy Hopkey, a woman in every
way suitable to be his wife. He gave her and her friends every
encouragement to believe his intentions earnest, but he see
sawed up and down between clerical celibacy and possible
matrimony. A vein of superstition always present in Wesley,
which led him to decide important questions by the first verse
of Scripture to which he should open, or by drawing lots, led
him now to the latter method of decision as to the marriage.
The lot fell adverse, and Wesley naturally aroused the resent
ment of the young woman and of her relatives. In a pique she
married hastily another suitor. The husband objected to her
continuance in attendance on Wesley's intimate religious dis
cussions. Wesley now felt that she was not making proper
preparation for communion, and refused her the sacrament.
No wonder her friends charged that this was the act of a dis
gruntled suitor. Wesley's influence in Georgia was at an end.
Suits were started against him. He had to leave the colony
by stealth. On February 1, 1738, John Wesley was back in
England. As on his outward voyage, he had feared death. In
his bitterness of disappointment he could only say : " I have a
fair summer religion." Yet he was a preacher of marked power,
he had labored unsparingly. He had made a good many mis
takes, but they were not those which show lack of Christian
consecration.
Fortunately for their distressed state of mind, within a week
of John Wesley's return both brothers were in familiar inter
course with a Moravian, Peter Bohler, delayed in London till
May on his way to Georgia. Bohler taught a complete self-
surrendering faith, an instantaneous conversion, and a joy in
believing. But though before sailing Bohler organized a
JOHN WESLEY'S CONVERSION 513
"society," later to be known as the "Fetter-Lane Society," of
which John Wesley was one of the original members, neither
brother was as yet at peace. That experience, his " conversion,"
came to Charles Wesley, then suffering from a serious illness,
on May. 21, 1738. On Wednesday, May 24, the transforming
experience came to John. That evening, as he recorded, he
went unwillingly to an Anglican "society" in Aldersgate Street,
London, and heard Luther's preface to the Commentary on
Romans read. "About a quarter before nine, while he [Luther]
was describing the change which God works in the heart through
faith in Christ, I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt I did
trust in Christ, Christ alone, for salvation; and an assurance
was given me, that He had taken away my sins, even mine, and
saved me from the law of sin and death." Of the far-reaching
significance of this experience there can be no question. It de
termined thenceforth Wesley's estimate of the normal mode of
entrance on the Christian life. It was the light of all his theo-
logic insight. Yet it was in some measure gradually, even after
it, and by preaching and observing a similar work in others and
by communion with God, that he entered into full freedom from
fear and complete joy in believing.
John Wesley determined to know more of the Moravians, who
had helped him thus far. Less than three weeks after his con
version he was on his way to Germany. He met Zinzendorf
in Marienborn, spent two weeks in Herrnhut, and in Septem
ber, 1738, was back in London. It was a happy visit for Wes
ley. He saw much to admire. Yet he was not pleased with
all. He felt that Zinzendorf was treated with too great defer
ence, and that Moravian piety was not without its subjective
limitations. Much as he owed to the Moravians, Wesley was
too active in religious attitude, too little mystical, too outreach-
ing to men in their wider needs, to be fully a Moravian.
John and Charles Wesley now preached as opportunities
offered, finding many pulpits closed to their "enthusiasm," and
speaking chiefly in the "societies" in and about London.
Early in 1739 Whitefield was developing a great work in Bris
tol, and there on February 17 he began preaching in the open
to the coal miners of Kingswood. He now entered into friendly
relations with Howel Harris (1714-1773), who had been work
ing with great success, since 1736, as a lay preacher in Wales.
Whitefield now invited John Wesley to Bristol. Wesley hesi-
514 METHODISM ORGANIZED
tated about field-preaching; but the opportunity to proclaim
the Gospel to the needy was irresistible, and on April 2 he began
in Bristol what was thenceforth to be his practice for more
than fifty years, as long as strength permitted. Charles Wes
ley soon followed his example. While without Whitefield's
dramatic power, John Wesley was a preacher with few equals
in popular effectiveness — earnest, practical, fearless. Thence
forward he was to tour England, Scotland, and Ireland. At
tacked, especially in the early part of his ministry, in peril
from mob violence, no danger could daunt him, or interruption
could check him. Under his preaching, as under that of White-
field, remarkable exhibitions of bodily excitement were fre
quent. Men and women cried out, fainted, were torn with
convulsions. To both preachers these seemed the working
of the Spirit of God, or the visible resistance of the devil.
They are the frequent accompaniments of great religious ex
citement among the ignorant and uncontrolled, and the dis
favor with which they were regarded accounts for much of the
opposition which these preachers encountered from the regular
clergy.
John Wesley's gifts as an organizer were pre-eminent. Yet
the creation of Methodism was a gradual work — an adaptation
of means to circumstances. In Bristol he founded in 1739 his
first really Methodist "society," and began the erection of the
first chapel there on May 12, 1739. Late that year he secured in
London an old "foundery," which became the first chapel there.
Thus far, in London, the Methodists had also joined in the
Moravian Fetter-Lane Society, which Peter Bohler had founded
in 1738 (ante, p. 513). Wesley's ideals were leading him away
from Moravianism. This separation was increased when, in
October, 1739, Philipp Heinrich Molther, just come from Zin-
zendorf, asserted in Fetter-Lane, that if any man had doubts
he had no true faith, and should absent himself from the sacra
ments and prayer, awaiting in silence till God should renew
his religious hope. Such teaching found little sympathy from
Wesley's strenuous activity. The Fetter-Lane Society was
divided. Wesley and his friends withdrew and founded a
purely Methodist "United Society" in the Foundery, on July
23, 1740. Wesley continued on friendly terms with some of
the Moravians, but thenceforth the movements were indepen
dent of each other.
METHODISM ORGANIZED 515
Wesley had no desire or intention of breaking with the
Church of England. He did not, therefore, found churches,
but took up into service the device of the long-existing "re
ligious societies," but these should now consist only of converted
persons. ; These " societies " were from the first divided into
"bands," or groups, within the society, for mutual cultivation
of the Christian life. This was a Moravian device ; but experi
ence soon showed Wesley something more efficient. Soon
after the Bristol society was formed Wesley hit on the plan of
giving "society tickets" to those whom he found sufficiently
grounded to be full members, and receiving others on trial.
These tickets were renewable quarterly, and furnished a ready
means of sifting the society. The debt on the Bristol chapel
led to a yet more important arrangement. On February 15,
1742, the members were divided into "classes" of about twelve
persons, each under a "class leader," charged to collect a penny
weekly from each member. This system was introduced in
London on March 25. Its advantages for spiritual oversight
and mutual watch were soon even more apparent than its finan
cial merits. It soon became one of the characteristic fea
tures of Methodism, though the older " bands," also, long con
tinued.
Wesley would have preferred to have all preaching by or
dained men, but few of the clergy were sympathetic with the
movement. A lay preacher, Joseph Humphreys, was helping
him as early as 1738 ; but extensive use was not made of this
agency till 1742, when Thomas Maxfield became regularly the
earliest of what soon became a considerable company. The
growth of the movement developed other lay officers, "stew
ards," to care for property, teachers for schools, "visitors of
the sick," for the duties which their names implied. At first
Wesley visited all "societies," which were chiefly in the regions
of London and Bristol, but the task soon became too great.
In 1744 he had the preachers meet him in London — the first
of the "Annual Conferences." Two years later the field was
divided into "circuits," with travelling preachers and more
stationary leaders to "assist chiefly in one place." Soon an
"assistant," later called a "superintendent," was placed in
charge of each "circuit." Wesley endeavored by suitable
publications to aid the intellectual development of his lay
preachers and secured study as far as possible. He tried in
516 WESLEY'S THEOLOGY
vain to obtain episcopal ordination for them; but would not
allow the sacraments to be administered by unordained men.
While Wesley stood theologically on the common basis of
Evangelical doctrinal tradition and regarded his " societies" as
part of the Church of England, two disputes led to considerable
controversy. One was regarding perfection. Wesley believed
it possible for a Christian to attain right ruling motives — love
to God and to his neighbor — and that such attainment would
free from sin. To Wesley's cautious and sober judgment this
was an aim rather than a frequently completed achievement —
however it may have appeared to some of his followers. No
man was ever more positive than he that salvation evidences
itself in a life of active, strenuous obedience to the will of God.
A second dispute was regarding predestination. Wesley, like
the Church of England generally of his time, was Arminian, but
he had derived a special parental hostility to Calvinism, which
seemed to him paralyzing to moral effort. Whitefield was
Calvinistic. A hot interchange of letters took place between
the two Evangelists in 1740 and 1741. Their good personal
relations were soon restored in large measure. Whitefield
found a supporter, in 1748, in Selina, countess of Huntingdon
(1707-1791), a wealthy widow, a convert to Methodism, but
far too dominant a character to yield to Wesley's insistent
leadership. She would be her own Wesley, and, like Wesley,
founded and superintended " societies" and chapels — the first in
Brighton in 1761 — thus beginning the " Lady Huntingdon's Con
nection." She made Whitefield her chaplain. Her "Connec
tion" was Calvinist. In 1769 the predestinarian controversy
broke out with renewed intensity. At the "Conference" of
1770, Wesley took a strongly Arminian position. Whitefield
died that year, but Wesley was fiercely attacked by Augustus
Toplady (1740-1778), author of the hymn "Rock of Ages."
Wesley was defended by his devoted disciple, the Swiss John
William de la Flechere (1729-1785), who had settled in England
and accepted a living in the establishment in 1760 (Fletcher of
Madeley), where he was to do notable work. The effect of
these discussions was to confirm the Arminian character of
Wesleyan Methodism. Yet "Lady Huntingdon's Connection"
and these Calvinistic Dissenters must be regarded as parallel
rather than as hostile movements. Their fundamental spirit
was essentially the same as that of Wesley.
METHODISM IN AMERICA 517
The Methodist movement grew enormously. John Wesley
had many friends and assistants, but few intimates who shared
his responsibilities. His brother Charles long had part in his con
stant travels, but Charles had not the iron constitution of John.
After 1756 Charles itinerated seldom. He labored in Bristol,
and from 1771 to his death on March 29, 1788, he preached in
London. He was always more conservative than John, and
more Anglican. His great service was as the hymn-writer,
not merely of Methodism, but of all English-speaking Chris
tianity. John's unwise marriage to a widow, Mrs. Mary
Vazeille, in 1751, was unhappy. He devoted himself all the
more unreservedly to his work. Over all the multitudinous
concerns of Methodism he exercised a wise but absolute au
thority. Naturally, as the "societies" grew and preachers mul
tiplied pressure rose for authority to administer the sacraments,
this Wesley resisted long; but episcopally ordained men were
few, and the force of events made the pressure irresistible in
spite of Wesley's insistence that his movement was within the
establishment.
Methodism was carried to America by Philip Embury (1728-
1773), who began work in New York in 1766, and Robert
Strawbridge (?-1781), who was laboring in Maryland about the
same time. A vigorous early preacher was Captain Thomas
Webb (1724-1796) of the British army. So promising was the
work that, in 1771, Wesley sent over Francis Asbury (1745-
1816) — a most wise choice. These were all lay preachers. By
1773 the first American "Conference" was held in Philadelphia.
Then came the storm of the Revolutionary War, but Methodism
grew in spite of it. With peace, in 1783, dependence on Eng
land was no longer desirable, and the sacramental question was
even more pressing than in England, as in many regions of the
United States there were no Episcopal Churches to which the
Methodists could resort. Wesley had tried in vain, in 1780,
to procure ordination for clergymen for America from the bishop
of London. He had long been convinced that bishops and
presbyters in the ancient church were one order. He therefore,
as a presbyter, felt empowered to ordain in case of necessity.
At Bristol, on September 1, 1784, he and his intimate disci
ple, Thomas Coke (1747-1814), like Wesley a presbyter of
the establishment, ordained Richard Whatcoat and Thomas
Vasey as presbyters for America ; and the next day, " assisted
518 WESLEY'S ORDINATIONS
by other ordained ministers" "set" Coke "apart as a superin
tendent" for the same work. This was, indeed, a breach with
the Church of England, though Wesley did not then see it as
such. His brother Charles disliked the act. The necessity
was great, and no non-prelatical believer can blame Wesley.
Regret has often been expressed that Wesley and the church
of his affections were thus compelled to separate. It would
have been of infinite advantage if some solution other than
division could have been found; but in the existing state of ideals
and organization it seems well-nigh impossible to conceive what
adjustment could then have been proposed with success.
Under date of September 10, 1784, Wesley notified his action
to the American Methodists, and also informed them that he
had appointed Asbury as well as Coke "superintendents." In
December, 1784, Wesley's newly consecrated ministers held a
"conference" in Baltimore, at which Asbury was ordained
"elder" and "superintendent," and it was "agreed to form a
Methodist Episcopal Church." By 1788 Coke and Asbury
were called "bishops," and that title thenceforth supplanted
"superintendent" in America. Once begun, Wesley in the
course of the next few years ordained ministers for Scotland,
Antigua, Newfoundland, and finally England.
Another event of 1784 was of great importance. Wesley
had been thus far the controlling force in Methodism. By a
"Deed of Declaration," of February 28, he now provided that
those who should preach in the chapels should be such as the
"Conference" should recognize, and otherwise defined the pow
ers of that body. It was a great step toward the self-govern-,
ment of Methodism.
Wesley's strength and activities continued unabated almost
to the end. On March 2, 1791, he died in London, having done
a work which had largely revolutionized the religious condition
of the English lower and middle clasess, and was even more
largely to affect America.
SECTION VIII. SOME EFFECTS OF METHODISM
The great Wesleyan revival was felt beyond the range of its
nominal adherents. Its influence on the older Non-Conformist
bodies was stimulating though very unequal. Their condition
in the first half of the eighteenth century was one of decay.
THE EVANGELICALS 519
Their leaders looked askance at Wesley and Whitefield at first ;
but as the revival continued the younger men caught its zeal.
This was especially the case among the Congregationalists,
who profited most of all. Their preaching was quickened, their
zeal revived, their numbers rapidly increased. Many acces
sions came to them from those awakened by Methodism to
whom the Methodist discipline was irksome. Many came to
them from parishes of the establishment. By 1800 the Con
gregationalists occupied a very different position in England
from that of 1700. The Particular Baptists also shared in
this growth, though to less extent, since their Calvinism was
intense and antagonistic to Wesleyan Arminianism. The Gen
eral Baptists, in spite of a considerable leaven of Socinianism,
also gained by the revival. They were divided — the General
Baptist New Connection of 1770, being Evangelical. The Pres
byterians, on the other hand, were almost unaffected. Arianism
and Socinianism were dominant among them. Their numbers
dwindled. Nor were the Quakers much moved. Their noble
humanitarian zeal was never more manifest, but the revi
val methods were too foreign to their spirit to make much im
pression.
Wesley won many sympathizers in the establishment.
These men were generally in agreement with his religious em
phases, on conversion, a confident faith, a religious life mani
fested in active work for others. On the other hand, they
adopted few of his peculiar methods, and in general were marked
theologically by an extremely moderate Calvinism rather than
by his aggressive Arminianism. Whitefield was the spiritual
father of many. They were never a body. They were rather
a way ofuthinking, and to it the name Evangelical or low-
church was given. Conspicuous among these Evangelicals were
John Newton (1725-1807), once a slave-dealing shipmaster.
Converted, he became one of the most helpful of preachers, first
in Olney and then as rector of St. Mary Woolnoth in London.
His hymns express his cheerful, confident faith.
Thomas Scott (1747-1821), Newton's successor in Olney,
was best known for his Family Bible with Notes — a commentary
of immense popularity on both sides of the Atlantic. Richard
Cecil (1748-1810) in later life was one of the most influential
preachers in London. Joseph Milner (1744-1797) made Hull
an Evangelical stronghold and won much influence through his
520 EMINENT EVANGELICALS
History of the Church of Christ, continued after his death by
his brother, Isaac, in which he emphasized the development
of Christian biography rather than the disputes of Christi
anity. Isaac Milner (1750-1820), was long a professor in
Cambridge and aided in making the tone of that university
largely Evangelical, a work which was continued there in power
by Charles Simeon (1759-1836).
Several not in clerical ranks were instrumental in the spread
of Evangelical opinions. Such was William Cowper (1731-
1800), the greatest English poet of the latter half of the eight
eenth century, and Newton's warm friend. In Hannah More
(1745-1833) Evangelicalism had a supporter personally ac
quainted with the literary, artistic, and theatrical circles of
London, a writer of tracts and stories of unbounded popularity
and herself of generous and self-denying philanthropy. Zachary
Macaulay (1768-1838), father of the historian, was a deter
mined opponent of the slave trade. That evil had received
John Wesley's severest condemnation. It had been vigorously
opposed by the Quakers. Its most effective enemy was one
of the most eminent of Evangelical laymen, William Wilber-
force (1759-1833). Wealthy, popular, and a member of Parlia
ment, he was " con verted" in 1784 through the instrumentality
of Isaac Milner. In 1797 he published his Practical View of the
Prevailing Religious System of Professed Christians in the Higher
and Middle Classes in this Country Contrasted with real Christian
ity. It proved one of the most popular of Evangelical treatises.
In 1787 he began his lifelong battle with slavery, resulting in
the abolition of the slave trade in 1807, and of slavery itself
throughout the British dominions in 1833.
The Methodist movement was forward-looking in its philan
thropic sympathies, and the Evangelicals shared this trait.
Methodism, under Wesley's leadership, sought to aid its poorer
members financially, to provide work, to care for the sick, to
furnish schools and cheap reading, and to overcome the coarse
ness and brutality of the lower classes.
The awakening of the new spirit of humanitarianism had one
of its noblest illustrations in John Howard (1726-1790), a quiet,
religious, country landlord, interested in schools and model
cottages, a worshipper in Congregational and Baptist congre
gations; Howard was chosen high sheriff of Bedford in 1773.
He was inexpressibly shocked at the moral and physical filth
NEW RELIGIOUS AGENCIES 521
of the jails, their officers supported by what they could wring
from the prisoners, not by salaries; no proper separation of
prisoners, no release for those acquitted till their fees were dis
charged. Thorough in all that he did, Howard visited prac
tically all the jails of England, and laid the horrible results
before Parliament in 1774. He then did a similar work for
Scotland, Ireland, and the Continent. Much remained to be
done, but he deserves the title of the "father of prison reform."
His last years were devoted to equally self-sacrificing efforts
to ascertain methods to prevent the spread of the plague. His
devotion cost him his life in southern Russia.
The Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge had been
founded in 1699 (ante, p. 508), but the revival movement gave
a great impulse to the diffusion of Christian literature. Wesley
made that one of his chief agencies, publishing constantly. In
1799 the interdenominational Religious Tract Society was
formed in London. Even earlier, in 1789, the Methodist Book
Concern had been founded on this side of the Atlantic. The
New York Religious Tract Society, which was to be merged with
other local organizations into the American Tract Society, was
begun in 1812. Pietism had set the example of extensive and
cheap publication of the Bible through Baron Canstein's great
foundation in Halle, in 1710 (ante, p. 500). In 1804 the Brit
ish and Foreign Bible Society was founded in London through
the efforts of Evangelicals. Ireland and Scotland soon fol
lowed; in 1808 the first of a series of local societies was or
ganized in Philadelphia, and out of consolidation the American
Bible Society came into existence in 1816. By their work the
present enormous diffusion of the Scriptures has been made
possible.
Some form of religious teaching of children is probably as old
as organized religion, and the Reformation age made much of
catechetical instruction. Though attempts were made even ear
lier, the first systematic and successful efforts to reach the poor
and unschooled with a Christian training on a large scale were
in the Sunday schools, founded in 1780 by Robert Raikes
(1735-1811), an Evangelical layman of the establishment, of
Gloucester. In the absence of public education, he sought to
give the ignorant training in the three "R's," and in Christian
fundamentals by means of paid teachers, on the only day,
Sunday, when the children were free. Attendance at church
522 THE SUNDAY SCHOOL
was also required. Raikes was proprietor of the Gloucester
Journal, which published accounts of these activities. The
work spread with great rapidity. Wesley and the Non-
Conformists favored them. A Society for Promoting Sunday
Schools throughout the British Dominions, was organized in
London in 1785. A similar society was formed in Philadelphia
in 1791. Though the growth of the movement was as rapid as
it was permanent, it was not without clerical opposition, partly
on account of its novelty and partly as a desecration of Sunday.
The secular instruction rapidly decreased, and the paid teacher
gave place to the voluntary leader. No Christian agency has
become more fully part of normal modern church life.
SECTION IX. THE MISSIONARY AWAKENING
The development of Roman Catholic missions in the Reforma
tion age was rapid and fruitful (pp. 429, 430, 565). Lack of
geographical contact with heathen lands and internal problems
prevented any equivalent Protestant efforts. With Dutch
conquests work was begun in Ceylon, Java, and Formosa in
the seventeenth century. The first English foreign missionary
organization, the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel
in New England, came into existence by act of Parliament
in 1649, in response to the efforts among the Massachusetts
Indians of John Eliot (1604-1690). At its expense his Indian
Bible and other works, were printed. The Society for the
Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts was organized
in 1701 (ante, p. 508). German Pietism produced the Halle-
Danish missions from 1705 onward (ante, p. 500). In 1732 the
notable missionary career of the Moravians began (ante, p.
504). Quakers had made some missionary efforts.
Interest in non-Christian peoples was aroused in Great
Britain by the voyages of discovery in the Pacific, under
government auspices, conducted by Captain James Cook (1728-
1779), from 1768 to his death. These discoveries awakened the
missionary zeal of William Carey (1761-1834), a shoemaker,
then a Baptist preacher, and who was to show himself a man of
remarkable talents as a linguist and a botanist, as well as of
unquenchable missionary devotion. The result of his thought
was his Enquiry into the Obligation of Christians to use Means
for the Conversion of the Heathens of 1792. In October of that
THE MISSIONARY AWAKENING 523
year this book and Carey's sermon on Isaiah 542> 3 induced
the organization of the Baptist Society for Propagating the
Gospel among the Heathen. Carey was its first missionary,
and his letters from India proved a powerful stimulus to other
missionary endeavor. In 1795 the London Missionary Society
was formed, as an interdenominational enterprise, largely
through the efforts of David Bogue (1750-1825), a Congrega
tional minister of Gosport, and of Thomas Haweis (1734-1820),
the Evangelical rector of Aldwinkle. Its first missionaries were
sent in 1796 to Tahiti. It has long been Congregational.
The growing sense of missionary obligation led in 1799 to the
organization of the Church Missionary Society, representative
of the Evangelical wing of the establishment, through the
agency of John Venn (1759-1813), rector of Clapham, and
Thomas Scott, editor of the Family Bible.
This deepening of English missionary obligation roused in
terest widely in other lands. In the United States news of
these efforts aroused the zeal of a group of students in Williams
College, among whom Samuel J. Mills, Jr. (1783-1818), was
leader, and resulted in the formation in 1810 of the American
Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions — originally in
terdenominational, but long since essentially Congregational.
Its first missionaries were sent to India in 1812. In 1814 the
American Baptist Missionary Union came into being. The
Wesleyan Methodist Missionary Society of England was founded
in 1813, and its American Methodist counterpart in 1819.
The Dutch Reformed and Presbyterian Churches of the United
States, which had co-operated with the American Board,
formed their own organizations in 1835 and 1837. After small
local beginnings in Scotland, as early as 1796, the Church of
Scotland Mission Boards came into being in 1825.
On the Continent the Basel Evangelical Missionary Society
dates from 1815 ; the Danish Missionary Society from 1821 ; the
Berlin Society from 1824 ; and that of Paris from the same year.
The nineteenth century witnessed a constant extension of
missionary activities, Protestant and Catholic, a more per
vading sense of missionary obligation, and a constant increase
in the number of those men and women who thus consecrate
themselves to the spread of the Gospel. No greater change
has taken place in the religious life of the last century and a
half than the general diffusion of the spirit of missions.
524 THE "ENLIGHTENMENT"
SECTION X. THE GERMAN ENLIGHTENMENT (AUFKLARUNG)
England had well advanced in its Deistic, rationalistic, and
Unitarian development before the rise of Methodism. There
the two streams long ran parallel. If Methodism, theologically,
was a return to older doctrinal conceptions, it was even more
an appeal to the strong, deep religious feelings of the nation.
In Germany Pietism, with its emphasis on feeling, preceded
the Enlightenment (Aufklarung), though continuing to run
parallel to the latter movement when that developed. The
Enlightenment in Germany was sure to come. Pietism had
broken the grasp of confessional orthodoxy, but it had raised
up no theological leaders to take the intellectual place of the
older dogmatic theologians. The eighteenth century, with
its critical rationalistic spirit ; the works of the English Deists
and their opponents; and the radical popular modification of
Deism in France, necessarily invaded Germany and found the
intellectual field vacant, through the discrediting of confessional
orthodoxy and the constructive inefficiency of Pietism. The
result was the rapid growth of the Enlightenment, as it styled
itself. To call it rationalism is not quite just, though that it
largely became. It represented many shades. Its chief im
portance is that, more than in England or in France, by its
critical and constructive work it prepared the way for a great
reconstruction in theology, which, in the nineteenth century,
was to spread widely throughout Protestant lands.
Leibnitz's speculations (ante, p. 485) were too deep to pro
duce a profound impression on his own age, though later they
were of powerful effect. Thomasius (ante, p. 499) spread a
rationalistic spirit, without working out a system. His influ
ence was marked in developing an attitude of mind, so that he
has not untruly been described as the "road-breaker of the
Enlightenment." Its great protagonist, however, was Chris
tian Wolff (1679-1754). Not a creative genius, it was Wolff's
fortune so to embody and give expression to the unformed and
inarticulate thought of his age, as to become the philosophical
and theological leader of two generations of his countrymen.
Skilled in mathematics, like most of the philosophers of his and
the preceding century, he began lecturing on mathematics in
Halle in 1707. Here his philosophy rapidly developed, in close
connection with that of Leibnitz, whose deeper thoughts, how-
CHRISTIAN WOLFF 525
ever, he never grasped. That alone is true, Wolff held, which
can be demonstrated by logical certainty akin to mathematics.
Truth must thus rationally be deduced from the innate contents
of the mind — the "pure reason." All that comes by experience
is merely contingent and confirmatory. The world is composed
of an infinite multitude of simple substances, each endowed
with force, though not with all the qualities of Leibnitz's
monads (ante, p. 485). Bodies are aggregations of these sub
stances. The world is a huge machine, ruled by mechanical
laws. The soul is that in us which is conscious of itself and of
other objects. It is endowed with capacities of knowledge and
desire. Their completeness of fulfilment is pleasure, their in
completeness, pain.
Since the world is contingent, it must have a cause. Hence
God exists and has made the world. The laws of all rational
thinking and acting give us the divine attributes. Since com
pleteness is the highest aim of all being, all that aims at the
completeness of ourselves and other men must be virtue.
Hence the principles of right action are embodied, as with the
Deists, in the fundamental divinely appointed constitution of
man. Wolff did not deny that there might be revelation,
though, if so, it could contain nothing not in agreement with
reason ; nor are miracles impossible, though improbable, and
each would imply two acts of equal power, the interruption of
the order of nature and its restoration after the event. Wolff's
view of man was optimistic. He is going on individually, and
socially, to larger completeness. Here was a breach with the
older theology, both of orthodoxy and of Pietism, and one that
came to its age with the conclusiveness of a logical demonstra
tion. God, natural religion, originally implanted morality,
and progress toward individual and racial perfection, not super
natural revelation or supernatural rescue from sin and ruin,
are the proper objects of religious regard, even if Wolff allows
a little standing room to revelation and miracle. Nor is man
the hopeless or incapable being of the older theology.
Wolff's views aroused the hostility of his Pietistic colleagues
in Halle. They procured from King Frederick William I
(1713-1740) his removal. The royal sentence was even to
them surprisingly strenuous. Wolff was ordered, in 1723, to
leave the university within forty-eight hours, or be hanged.
He found a refuge in Marburg, and was honorably restored to
526 MOSHEIM. REIMARUS
Halle in 1740 by Frederick the Great. His work had, how
ever, become common property, and he added little to his
achievements during the fourteen years in Halle till his death.
His thought had become that of a large section of Germany.
The sway of Pietism in Halle was over.
Less radical, but influential in aiding the new attitude of
German thought, was Johann Lorentz von Mosheim (1694?-
1755), professor in Helmstadt and finally in Gottingen. The
most admired preacher of his time, master of a style of brilliancy
in Latin or in German, his influence was essentially latitudi-
narian. He had no sympathy with the dogmatism of the or
thodox. The emphases of the Pietists awakened no response
in him ; nor could he support the extreme rationalism of Wolff.
He touched most fields of religious thought, and his influence,
on the whole, favored the spread of the Enlightenment. His
chief service was in the field of history. His Institutiones, first
issued in 1726 and in final form in 1755, embraced the whole
story of the church. In his Commentarii de rebus Christianorum
ante Constantinum of 1753, he treated the earlier centuries in
ampler fashion. Mosheim well deserves the name of "the
father of modern church history." He desired to be free of all
partisan bias, and succeeded in remarkable measure at the
expense of some colorlessness. His is the first church history
which aimed to tell events exactly as they happened, without
a cause to defend. As such, and by reason of its learning
and style, his work long survived his death.
More extreme rationalism soon found its representatives in
Germany. Hermann Samuel lleimarus (1694-1768), long a
highly reputed professor of Oriental languages in Hamburg, and
the leader in scholarly circles there, had travelled in England
in early life, and had there adopted Deist views, in defense of
which he wrote much, though his works were not issued till
after his death, when they were put forth by Lessing between
1774 and 1778 as fragments found in the library of Wolfen-
biittel — hence Wolfenbuttel Fragments, the publication of which
aroused immense discussion. As with the Deists, all that is
true is that natural religion which teaches the existence of a
wise Creator, a primitive morality, and immortality — all ascer-
tainable by reason. The world itself is the only miracle and
the only revelation — all others are impossible. The writers of
the Bible were not even honest men, but were moved by fraud
LESSING 527
and selfishness. It is a curious commentary on the condition
of thought in Germany that Reimarus's writings, though widely
criticised, were no less valued by others as a defense of religion
against materialism and atheism.
Gotthold Ephraim Lessing (1729-1781), to whom the publi
cation of Reimarus's religious writings was due, eminent as a
dramatist and a literary and artistic critic, himself ranking as
a German classic writer with Goethe and Schiller, though not
agreeing wholly with Reimarus, presented in his Education of
the Human Race of 1780 a theory of much plausibility. As the
individual passes through the successive stages of childhood,
youth, and manhood, so does the race. The Scriptures have
been given by God to meet these needs. Childhood is moved
by immediate rewards and punishments. For men in that
condition the Old Testament is a divine book of training, with
its promises of long life and temporal blessings for obedience.
Youth is ready to sacrifice present ease and lesser goods for
future success and happiness. For it, or for men in that state,
the New Testament with its present self-surrender and eternal
rewards is a fitting guide. But manhood is ruled by duty,
without hope of reward or fear of punishment as its motives.
Its guide is reason, though perhaps God may yet send some
further revelation as its aid. Lessing' s work spread wide the
feeling in educated Germany that the historic Christian re
ligion belonged to a past or to an inferior present stage of
human development.
The effect of the Enlightenment was a wide diffusion of the
views that what alone were valuable in the Scriptures were the
truths of natural religion and its morality, divested of miracle
or the supernatural. Jesus was a moral teacher rather than a
personal centre of faith. This was rationalism, and was char
acteristic of much of the strongest theological thinking of Ger
many by 1800, and was to continue powerful in the nineteenth
century. Side by side with it, confessional orthodoxy and
Pietism continued, though with decreasing intellectual appeal,
and much, also, which may be called semi-rationalism. Yet
the age was characterized, also, by vigorous polemic against
superstitions, and a large development of voluntary and
popular beneficence, and provision for popular education.
The eighteenth century was also marked, and nowhere more
than in Germany, by the development of textual and historical
528 BIBLICAL SCHOLARSHIP
studies of the Bible which initiated the modern period of criti
cism. The English scholar, John Mill (1645-1707), published
a Greek Testament, based on a careful collation of manu
scripts, in the year of his death. Jean le Clerc (1657-1736),
brought up in Geneva, later an Arminian in Amsterdam from
1684 to his death, won fame as an exegete, through his attempts
to explain the teaching of the Scriptures without dogmatic
prepossessions — approaching them not to discover proof texts,
but their actual meaning. Johann Albrecht Bengel (1687-
1752), long head of the theological seminary in Denkendorf,
in Wiirttemberg, a man of Pietistic leanings, was the first to
recognize that New Testament manuscripts may be grouped
in families, and to establish the generally accepted critical
canon that a more difficult reading is to be preferred. His
Gnomon, or Index, of the New Testament, of 1742, was the most
remarkable commentary thus far produced. Nothing, he de
clared, should be read into the Scripture, and nothing there
contained omitted, which could be drawn out by the most
rigid application of grammatical principles. Wesley made it
the basis of his Notes upon the New Testament of 1755. Con
temporaneously Johann Jakob Wettstein (1693-1754), of Basel
and Amsterdam, spent nearly a lifetime of labor on his Greek
New Testament with Various Reading, published in 1751-1752.
Textual criticism and sound exegesis were thus given a great
advance.
To Jean Astruc (1684-1766), royal professor of medicine in
Paris, was due the announcement, in his Conjectures of 1753,
of the composite character of Genesis. The theory won essen
tial support in 1781 from Johann Gottfried Eichhorn (1752-
1827), later the rationalistic professor in Gottingen, often called
"the founder of Old Testament criticism," but it is only in the
latter part of the nineteenth century that Astruc' s discovery
won extensive recognition.
In Johann August Ernest! (1707-1781), professor in Leipzig
from 1742, Germany had a teacher who not only aided greatly
that awakening of classical thought and ideals which affected
German intellectual life in the closing years of the eighteenth
century, but one who carried to New Testament interpretation
the same principles which he applied to classical literature.
The meaning is to be ascertained by the same grammatical and
historical methods in the one field as in the other. Reimarus
REIMARUS AND SEMLER 529
(ante, p. 526), in his seventh Fragment, published by Lessing
in 1778, for the first time subjected the life of Christ to rigid
historic methods, like those applied to secular history. His
total rejection of the supernatural, the mythical, or the legen
dary left his results barren enough, but he raised questions of
method and conclusion which have constituted the problems
of this investigation, in large measure, ever since. Johann
Salomo Semler (1725-1791), professor in Halle from 1752, was
of Pietistic training, though in manhood a conservative ration
alist. His importance was in the paths he indicated rather
than in the results he achieved. He distinguished between
the permanent truths in Scripture and the elements due to the
times in which the several books were written. He denied the
equal value of all parts of Scripture. Revelation, he taught, is
in Scripture, but all Scripture is not revelation. The creeds
of the church are a growth. Church history is a development.
In particular he made a distinction between Petrine, Judaizing
parties, in the early church, and Pauline, anti-Judaic, that was
to play a great role in later discussions.
SECTION XI. EOMANTICISM
Nothing seemed more characteristic of the earlier half of
the eighteenth century than the dominance of "reason," or
common sense. The age was unemotional, intellectual. It
did a remarkable work in questioning that which had been ac
cepted on tradition, in sweeping away ancient superstitions
and abuses, and demanding the rightfulness of that which
claimed authority. But it was cold and one-sided. It was
met, as the eighteenth century went on, by an immense opposi
tion. The claims of feeling asserted themselves, voiced in a
"return to nature," that was too often a nature conjured up
by the imagination, but accompanied by a renewed appreciation
of the classical and the mediaeval, and the revival of a sense
of the supernatural in religion, often vague and obscure, but
creating a totally different atmosphere in which man's claims
as a feeling, rather than as a purely thinking, being were
asserted.
Its most effective apostle was Jean Jacques Rousseau (1712-
1778) ; but the movement was manifested throughout Europe.
Nowhere was it more evident than in Germany. Lessing shared
530 IMMANUEL KANT
it. Its most conspicuous literary representatives there were
Johann Wolfgang ;von Goethe (1749-1832) and Johann Chris-
toph Friedrich von Schiller (1759-1805). The older ration
alism was not, indeed, swept from the field, but a totally differ
ent habit of thought contended on more than equal terms for
the mastery — that of Romanticism.
Philosophy, in the eighteenth century, had seemed to lead
to no thoroughfare. Leibnitz had taught that all knowledge
was an elucidation of that which was wrapped up innate in
the monad. Wolff had affirmed the power of "pure reason"
to give the only certainties. On the other hand, Locke had
taught that all comes by experience, and though Hume had
pushed to scepticism all conclusion based on cause and sub
stance, he had viewed, like Locke, all knowledge as founded on
experience. The British and the German tendencies were ap
parently mutually destructive. It was to be the work of Kant
to combine and supersede both, on a new basis which should be
the starting-point of modern philosophy, and to give a value
to feeling which neither earlier parties had recognized.
Immanuel Kant (1724-1804) was a native of Konigsberg,
where»all his life was spent. His paternal ancestry, he believed,
was Scotch. His earliest influences were Pietist. In 1755
Kant became a teacher in the University of Konigsberg. His
development was slow. He held at first to the school of Leib
nitz-Wolff. Study of Hume awakened doubts as to its ade
quacy, though he did not become Hume's disciple. Rousseau
profoundly influenced him with the "discovery of the deep
hidden nature of man." In 1781 came Kant's epoch-making
work, the Critique of Pure Reason — a blow struck primarily
at the then dominant philosophy of Wolff. His formative
treatises rapidly followed, and his thought was soon powerful
in Germany. By 1797 his mental and physical powers had
begun a decline which was to end in pitiful ruin. A little man
in physical stature, never married, of strict moral uprightness,
he devoted himself to his task with singular simplicity and
fidelity.
Kant's system is in many respects a theory of knowledge.
With the school of Locke and Hume he held that in our knowl
edge something, or some stimulus — the content — comes to the
mind from without. With Leibnitz and Wolff he maintained
that the mind has certain innate qualities, transcendent in the
IMMANUEL KANT 531
sense that they do not come by experience, which condition
and give form to that which comes from without. Time and
space are subjective conditions under which perception is pos
sible. The mind classifies what comes to it from without
under its own laws. These are the categories. Knowledge is,
therefore, the product of two elements — a content from without,
to which form is given by the laws of the mind. These two ele
ments give us experience ; but they do not give us knowledge
of what things are in themselves, only of what our minds make
of what has come into them from without. Such a demonstra
tion from "pure reason," as Wolff had attempted of God,
natural religion, and the constitution of the universe, is intellec
tually impossible. We cannot thus demonstrate the nature of
these existences as they are in themselves. Nature may be
studied as the realm of exact law, but the law is simply that
of our own thinking.
While absolute knowledge of that beyond experience is,
therefore, unattainable by purely intellectual processes, man
is conscious of a feeling of moral obligation when he asks what
ought he to do ? This subject was developed in Kant's Critique
of the Practical Reason of 1788. When man answers the ques
tion as to conduct, he feels within the "categorical imperative"
— an imperative because a command ; and categorical because
without conditions. It is so to act that the principles of action
may become those of universal law — in a phrase, do your duty.
That moral law within is the noblest of man's possessions,
it shows him as a personality and not as a machine. With
this "categorical imperative" three postulates, or inseparable
thoughts, are united. The most evident is, that if man ought to
do his duty, he can. Hence man must have freedom. And
freedom gives us a glimpse of a supersensuous realm of moral
purpose — of a sphere of moral order. A second postulate is that
of immortality. If life should be subjected to the categorical
imperative it must last long enough for that result to be accom
plished. Closely connected is the third postulate. Virtue
should result in happiness. Experience does not give that
union. Hence its accomplishment demands a power that can
unite the two. The third postulate is, therefore, God. His
existence is in the "pure reason" only a hypothesis ; but in the
postulates of the practical reason it becomes a conviction.
Kant's religious ideas were set forth in his Religion Within the
532 HERDER. SCHLEIERMACHER
Bounds of Reason Only of 1793. Emphasizing morality as
the prime content of the practical reason, he reduces religion
practically to theistic ethics. Evil and the categorical impera
tive contest for the obedience of man. One ruled by this prin
ciple of moral good — the categorical imperative — is pleasing
to God, is a son of God. Of this sonship Christ is the highest
illustration. The invisible church is the ideal union of all those
obedient to moral law. The visible church is a union to develop
this obedience. Its complete achievement will be the kingdom
of God. Kant's contribution to Christian theology was not
his rationalizing interpretation of doctrines, but his vindica
tion of man's profoundest feelings as bases of practical religious
conviction and moral conduct.
A decided impulse to the historical interpretation of the Bible
was given by Johann Gottfried von Herder (1744-1803), in
early life an intimate with Goethe, influenced by personal con
tact with Kant, and an eager supporter of the romantic move
ment. From 1776 to his death he was court preacher in Wei
mar. His Spirit of Hebrew Poetry appeared in 1782-1783.
His Philosophy of the History of Mankind in 1784-1791. Re
ligion, especially Christianity, is the embodiment of that which
is deepest in the feelings of mankind. The Scriptures are to be
understood in the light of the views and feelings of the times
in which the several books were written. They are, therefore,
essentially a religious literature. What is true and permanent
in them must be distinguished from the temporary and local.
Out of this romantic movement came the most influential
German theologian of the opening nineteenth century, and one
whose work has moulded religious thought far outside the bor
ders of his native land — Friedrich Daniel Ernst Schleiermacher
(1768-1834). The son of a Prussian army chaplain, he was
educated by the Moravians, fell under the influence of the views
of Wolff and Semler, and was then greatly impressed by Plato,
Spinoza, Kant, and Romanticism. In 1796 he became hospital
chaplain in Berlin, then a centre of the Enlightenment, and
there published in 1799 his remarkable Addresses on Religion,
directed to a rationalistic circle. In these his fundamental
thoughts were set forth. From 1804 to 1807 he was professor
in Halle. In the year last named he settled once more in Ber
lin, becoming a little later pastor of the Trinity Church. In
1810, on the founding of the University of Berlin, he was ap-
SCHLEIERMACHER 533
pointed professor of theology, a post which he occupied till his
death in 1834. In 1821-1822 he set forth his mature views in
his Christian Belief According to the Principles of the Evangelical
Church.
Schleiermacher 's prime significance is that he took up into
his own system the results of previous tendencies, and gave to
theology a new basis, and to the person of Christ a meaning
largely ignored in his age. Orthodoxy and rationalism had
both made religion essentially acceptance of an intellectual
system and an externally authoritative rule of conduct. To
the orthodox religion was based on assent to the truths of revela
tion and obedience to the will of God. To the rationalists it was
acceptance of natural theology and of universal morality as
certained by the reason. Both parties in the eighteenth cen
tury looked upon religion and morality as primarily means for
securing a happy immortality. To Schleiermacher the sole
basis of religion is inward, in the feeling. In itself religion is
neither a body of doctrines, revealed or rationally certified,
nor a system of conduct, though both belief and conduct flow
from religion.
Schleiermacher took much from Spinoza, Leibnitz, and Kant.
In our experience we perceive the antithesis of the manifold and
changing over against a principle of unity and permanency.
These antitheses give us the Absolute and eternal — God — with
out whom all would be chaos ; and the world, without which all
would be empty. The Absolute is throughout all. God is there
fore immanent in His world. Man is, in himself, as with Leib
nitz, a microcosm, a reflection of the universe. As contrasted
with that which is universal, absolute, and eternal, he feels him
self finite, limited, temporary — in a word, dependent. This
feeling of dependence is the basis of all religion. To bridge over
the gulf between the universal and the finite, to bring man into
harmony with God, is the aim of all religions. Hence the worth
of each religion is to be measured by the degree in which this
result, which is the aim of all, is accomplished. Hence religions
are not to be divided into true and false, but into relative de
grees of adequacy. All advances in religion throughout his
tory are in a true sense revelations, a fuller manifestation to
human consciousness of the immanent God. Of all religions
thus far known to men, Christianity is the best, since it most
fully accomplishes what it is the aim of all religions to achieve.
534 SCHLEIERMACHER. HEGEL
Its problems are those most fundamental to all religion, sin
and pardon, separation and reconciliation. And in the Chris
tian religion the person of Christ is the central element. He is
Himself the reconciliation of the finite with the universal, the
temporal with the eternal, the union of God and man. He is,
therefore, the Mediator of this reconciliation to others. Hence
Schleiermacher was strongly Christocentric. The life thus
uniting the temporal and the eternal — man and God — is now
immortal. An immortality in duration is a great hope, but
true immortality is a quality of life rather than a mere question
of duration.
Doctrines are these fundamental religious experiences defin
ing and interpreting themselves intellectually; but these ex
planations have only a relative and secondary value. They have
changed and may change. They are simply the forms in which
abiding truth from time to time expresses itself.
In Schleiermacher's view, morality is the result of the proper
understanding of that of which man is a part, the family, the
community, the state, the world. Such an enlarging view of
his real place in these relations will drive out selfishness and
self-centring. Morality is not religion, nor religion morality;
but religion is the main aid to morality. It asks the question
insistently, what ought to be, in the light of the Christian
consciousness.
Schleiermacher was condemned by the orthodox of his day
as too radical, by the rationalists as too visionary ; but no one
has influenced modern religious thinking in Protestant circles
more, or more variously.
Kant's system contained two evident points of difficulty.
It denied the power of intellectual processes to give knowledge
of things as they are in themselves, and it did not explain how
mental processes are necessarily the same in all individuals.
Philosophy was developed in the clarification of both these
difficulties, under the influence of Romanticism, into idealism,
by Johann Gottlieb Fichte (1762-1814) and Friedrich Wil-
helm Joseph von Schelling (1775-1854) ; but in more consistent
form and with a stricter realism, though predominantly ideal
ist ically, by Hegel.
Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel (1770-1831) was a native of
Stuttgart, educated at Tubingen. He taught in Jena, with
scanty following, from 1801 to 1807. From 1808 to 1816 he
HEGEL 535
was the head of the gymnasium school in Nuremberg. The
year 1818 saw his appointment to a professorship in Berlin,
where his fame rapidly rose to that of the first philosopher of
his day in Germany, He died of cholera, at the height of his
reputation and activity, in 1831. This distinction was in spite
of his uninteresting and obscure manner of presentation in the
classroom.
To Hegel the universe is a constant development of the
Absolute, that is, God, through struggle and effort. The Abso
lute is spirit, and its development is in accordance with the
laws by which mind thinks itself out logically. These always
involve three stages, a movement in one direction — a thesis.
This proceeds till it encounters its opposition or its limitation
—the antithesis. But the two are but aspects of the one Abso
lute, and both thesis and antithesis unite in a higher union, the
synthesis. Over against the " idea," the thesis, as its antithesis,
is nature — but the two unite in higher synthesis in man, who is
the union of both mind and matter. Since all is the Absolute
developing in accordance with the laws of all thought, the laws
of thought are the laws of things ; and since our thinking is a
fragment of that of the Absolute, in so far as it is true, it gives
us true knowledge of the things outside our minds, and is the
same in all minds since a part of the one Absolute. Since we
are portions of the Absolute come to consciousness, a prime duty
of the finite spirit is to realize its relation to the Absolute-
such realization is religion. Religion may, indeed, begin, as
with Schleiermacher, in feeling ; but to be true it must become
real knowledge. Every religion is an attempt thus to know
God, of which Christianity is the most complete realization.
God is always striving to reveal Himself ; yet this outworking
must always be through the three necessary stages of develop
ment. Thus the Father is the divine unity — the thesis. He
objectifies Himself in the Son — the antithesis. The uniting
love is the Holy Spirit — the synthesis. The whole process gives
the Trinity. So regarding the incarnation. God is the thesis.
He is distinguished from finite humanity, the antithesis. Both
unite in the higher synthesis, the God-man. Hegel's system
did much to substitute for the older sharp distinction between
the divine and the human, the sense of their fundamental
unity so prevalent in modern Protestant theology.
The profundity, power, and ingenuity of Hegel's views
536 THE TUBINGEN SCHOOL
cannot be questioned. Yet they were too procrusteanly phil
osophical not to lead to reaction. Though their reign in Ger
many was comparatively short, they had much following in
Great Britain throughout the latter half of the nineteenth cen
tury, and have long been influential in America.
SECTION XII. FURTHER GERMAN DEVELOPMENTS
Hegel's theory of development had a significant application
to New Testament criticism in the work of Ferdinand Christian
Baur (1792-1860), professor in Tubingen from 1826 to his death,
and founder of the new Tubingen school in theology. The
essential features of his interpretation were sketched by Baur
in his account of the parties in the Corinthian Church, published
in 1831, and were thenceforward developed in a series of bril
liant studies, which won many disciples. All historical progress,
Baur felt, with Hegel, must be through the three stages of thesis,
antithesis, and synthesis. Semler (ante, p. 529) had already
taught the existence of Petrine (Judaizing) and Pauline parties
in the early church. These gave the elements of the Hegelian
triad. Christianity, so Baur taught, began as essentially a
Messianic Judaism. This — the thesis — was the position of all
the original Apostles. The necessary antithesis inevitably arose
and was Pauline Christianity. Petrine and Pauline views
struggled far into the second century ; but the inevitable syn
thesis came eventually, in the Old Catholic Church, which hon
ored both Peter and Paul, and was unconscious that they had
ever stood in serious opposition.
The most debated use made by Baur of this reconstruction
of the early history of the church was a redating of the books
of the New Testament. They must display the biases of the
various aspects of this development — that is, they must show
"tendencies." Applying this test, Baur found only Romans,
Galatians, and the Corinthian epistles genuinely Pauline, since
they alone showed traces of the conflict. The others did not
reveal the struggle, and hence must be dated later, when it
had become a forgotten story. Revelation was early and Juda
izing. In 1847 Baur turned to the investigation of the Gospels
by the same methods. Matthew reveals Judaizing tendencies,
and is the oldest. Luke is probably a reworking of Marcion's
(ante, p. 57) gospel. Mark sought to hide the conflict, and
GERMAN THEOLOGICAL GROUPS 537
is later, while John is not only irenic but betrays familiarity
with controversies of the later half of the second century.
The greater part of the New Testament was, therefore, written
in the second century.
Baur's discussion aroused advocates and opponents in great
numbers. Its ultimate effect on New Testament investigation
was most beneficial. These debates immensely enlarged the
knowledge of the early church and of its literature. Their re
sults have been, however, the best answer to Baur's own the
ories. He had no adequate conception of the significance of
Christ in the development of the early church. There were
important differences between Judaic and Pauline Christianity ;
but to reduce the intellectual reactions of nascent Christianity
to these only is far too simple. There were many other shades
of unlikeness. Above all, an increasing knowledge of the sec
ond century, and an appreciation of its atmosphere impossible
in Baur's time, makes it inconceivable that the books which
he assigns to it could, for the most part, have been then written.
They are not of that age and outlook.
By the time that Baur began his work, and for the next gen
eration, German theologians were divided into three main
groups. On one extreme stood the rationalists, the continua
tion of the type of the closing eighteenth century. Among
them none was of greater influence than Heinrich Eberhard
Gottlob Paulus (1761-1851), professor from 1789 in Jena, who
spent the latter part of his long life (1811-1844) as professor
in Heidelberg. An opponent of all supernaturalism, his Life
of Jesus of 1828 is typical of the woodenness of the rationalism
of his period. Christ's walking on the water, he explains as
a misunderstanding of the disciples, viewing Christ through
the mist as He walked on the shore. The feeding of the five
thousand was accomplished by the generous freedom with
which Christ bestowed the little food He had, thus awakening
the generosity of those in the throng who had a larger supply.
Christ's death was no real event. He revived in the tomb,
aroused by the earthquake, and returned to His disciples.
Confessional orthodoxy of the most uncompromising pattern
had a notable representative in Ernst Wilhelm Hengstenberg
(1802-1869), professor in Berlin from 1826 to his death.
Between the two extremes stood a "mediating" school,
largely influenced by Schleiermacher, sharing his warmth of
538 THE "MEDIATING" THEOLOGIANS
Christian feeling, perhaps generally intensified, strongly de
voted, like him, to the personal Christ, but disposed to accept
many of the results of criticism, especially regarding the Biblical
inspiration and narratives.
Most influential of these "mediating" theologians was
Johann August Wilhelm Neander (1789-1850). Of Hebrew
parentage, originally David Mendel, he took the name by
which he is known at baptism in 1806, to signify his new birth.
A student under Schleiermacher in Halle, it was his teacher's
influence that secured for him a professorship in Berlin in 1813,
which he filled with distinction till his death in 1850. Nean
der turned his attention to church history with a series of re
markable monographs, and in 1826 published the first volume
of his History of the Christian Religion and Church, at which
he labored for the rest of his life. Distinguished by thorough
use of the sources, Neander's conception of the history of the
church was that of a divine life gaining increasing control over
the lives of men. That life is manifested in individuals.
Hence, Neander's work was a series of striking biographical
portraits. Its weakness was its over-emphases on the influence
of individuals, and its scanty appreciation of the institutional
or corporate life of the church. Yet it put church history on a
new plane of achievement. Quite as significant as his writings
were the influence of Neander's personal intercourse with his
students, and his childlike, unaffected Christian trust. "The
heart makes the theologian," was frequently on his lips, and
expresses his character. Few men have been more personally
helpful or more beloved.
A similar personal influence was exercised by Friedrich
August Gottreu Tholuck (1799-1877), who became a professor
in Berlin in 1823, but held a chair in Halle from 1826 to his
death. A man of Pietistic sympathies, yet with acceptance of
the critical views in many features, he turned Halle from the
rationalism which had dominated since the time of Wolff to the
Evangelicalism which still characterizes it. As a preacher he
was distinguished. His kindness to English and American
students was unwearied.
A third important representative of the "mediating" school
was Isaac August Dorner (1809-1884), a student in Tubingen
from 1827 to 1832, and an instructor there in 1834. After ser
vice in a number of German universities he closed his career as
DORNER AND STRAUSS 539
professor in Berlin from 1862 to his death in 1884. Dorner's
most important early publication was his Doctrine of the Person
of Christ of 1839. His completed theology was formulated in
fulness, late in life, in his System of the Doctrines of Faith of
1879-1880. Theology and philosophy are truly akin, but both
embody themselves in a progressive historic development.
Christian belief thus finds its attestation in the Christian con
sciousness, which in turn recognizes the validity of the spiritual
experience recorded in the Scriptures, and has had its grow
ing clarification in Christian history. The central doctrine of
Christianity is the incarnation in which Christ is the revelation
of what God is, and of what man may be — the Head of human
ity. Dorner had much influence in Great Britain and America.
A comparatively minor feature of his system, that man's moral
status is not finally determined till he has been brought, here
or hereafter, to the knowledge of the historic Christ, adopted
by the theologians of Andover Seminary, and popularly known
as "continued probation," led to the heated "Andover contro
versy" in America in the eighties of the nineteenth century.
This "mediating school," by reason of its warm Christian
faith, and its partial, though cautious, acceptance of critical
positions, had no little following in lands essentially theologically
conservative like the United States ; but like all compromising
parties its influence was temporary, and in Germany has
hardly survived its principal leaders.
The most epoch-making book in German theological devel
opment came not from any of these schools, but from a young
scholar of twenty-seven at the University of Tubingen, in 1835,
David Friedrich Strauss (1808-1874). Strauss had made him
self at home in the Hegelian philosophy. He was familiar with
the earlier positions of Baur. He was, also, acquainted with
the interpretation as mythical which the historian and states
man Barthold Georg Niebuhr (1776-1831) had made of the
early story of Rome. These principles he now applied to the
life of Christ. He was far from denying that much could be
known of Jesus' earthly career; it must be viewed, however,
as moving wholly in the realm of the human, like other his
torical events. Of the Gospel sources, he regarded that bearing
the name of John as most removed in time and of the least
historical worth, thus differing from much of the scholarship
immediately before him which, notably that of Schleiermacher,
540 STRAUSS
had preferred John to the others. Strauss gave the first place
to Matthew, but none of the Gospels were by eye-witnesses.
Miracles are inherently impossible ; but the Gospels are full of
them. The ordinary rationalistic interpretations, like those
of Paulus (ante, p. 537), are ridiculous; the assertions of the
ultra-rationalists, like Reimarus (ante, p. 526), that they were re
counted with intent to deceive, are impossible. The only ade
quate explanation is that the simple, natural facts of Christ's
life are covered over with myth. The men of that time were
expecting a Messiah who would be a wonder-worker ; they were
looking for the fulfilment of Old Testament prophecy ; they had
great true ideas, such as that the race is partly divine and partly
human, that it rises above death by union with God. These
were attributed to, or regarded as impersonated in, Christ.
Jesus lived ; but the Christ of the New Testament is therefore,
essentially, in all His superhuman characteristics a creation of
myth.
Strauss' s book aroused an enormous controversy. He had
attacked the views of every party in contemporary Germany,
the orthodox, the rationalists of all shades, the " mediating'*
theologians. He met unsparing denunciation. He was de
barred all further theological employment, and lived an em
bittered existence. Yet, looking back from the lapse of nearly
three-quarters of a century, it is evident that his work placed
the investigation of the life of Christ on a new plane, that he
answered conclusively the older rationalists, and that the dis
cussions which he inaugurated have been of immense service.
Though the legend, that is, the transformation of the actual
facts by retelling and accretion, is generally preferred to the
myth, such explanation of much otherwise perplexing in the
Gospels is widely accepted. Strauss' s estimate of the relative
low historic value of the Johannine Gospel, though not undis
puted, is very generally entertained. His preference for Mat
thew has almost universally given place, especially since the
labors of Heinrich Julius Holtzmann (1832-1910), to a view that
sees in Mark the oldest narrative, and posits by its side, as the
other main source of Matthew and Luke, an early collection of
Christ's sayings.
Granting the services of Strauss's youthful work in the de
velopment of New Testament scholarship, two fundamental
criticisms of his method as a whole remain. Either the church
STRAUSS, RENAN, RITSCHL 541
created that which is important in the figure of Christ, albeit
unconsciously ; or Christ is the source of the church. If Strauss
and those who share his essential position were right, the
former conclusion is true; but it seems much more difficult of
acceptance than the latter. Nor has the purely human his
torical interpretation of the life of Christ, though largely de
veloped to the present, led to the construction of a really plausi
ble picture that could long be maintained. As one of the
ablest living students of the history of the investigation of the
life of Christ has asserted, its results have been essentially fail
ure.1 The sayings of Jesus Himself, and the beliefs of the early
church as witnessed by the Pauline letters, demand, as Fried-
rich Loofs (1858-) of Halle contends,2 a Being impossible of
classification merely in the categories of humanity.
Strauss's work was the inspiration, in large measure, of the
French scholar, Ernst Renan (1823-1892). His Life of Jesus,
of 1863, was indebted, though in less measure, also to the work
of other German students. The literary skill, the charm with
which Renan's marvellous pen depicted the purely human life
of a Galilean peasant prophet, gave Renan's work enormous
and permanent popularity. Yet it was sentimental, theatrical,
and, in its use of the sources, fundamentally insincere. Infi
nitely superior to Strauss in literary art, in other respects
Renan's work stood on a far lower level.
The most potent influence alike in the interpretation of the
history of the early church and of theology in Germany during
the last half-century has been that of Albrecht Ritschl (1822-
1889). A disciple at first of the school of Baur, he broke with
its main contentions when he published the second edition of
his Origin of the Old Catholic Church in 1857. Baur's Hegelian
Petrine thesis and Pauline antithesis are not adequate explana
tions of the growth of the early church. There were differ
ences, but all parties had a greater fundamental unity in own
ing the mastery of Jesus. Nor are the unlikenesses of early
Christianity resolvable into two sharply antagonistic parties.
There were many shades of opinion. Christianity came into
no empty world, but one filled with religious, philosophical, and
institutional ideas. By them, especially on Gentile soil, the
1 Albert Schweitzer (1875-), The Quest of the Historical Jesus, 1910.
2 What is the Truth about Jesus Christ, 1913 ; also Wer war Jesus Christus,
1916.
542 RITSCHL
simple, primitive truths of Christianity were profoundly modi
fied, resulting in the theology and institutions of the Old
Catholic Church. .This fertile and illuminating interpretation
is that most widely accepted by modern Protestant scholars.
Ritschl began teaching in the University of Bonn in 1846.
In 1864 he became professor in Gottingen, where he remained
till his death. Here he published, in 1870-1874, his chief the
ological work, The Christian Doctrine of Justification and Recon
ciliation. Ritschl had few personal disciples, but the propa
gating influence of his writings was great.
Ritschl was much influenced by Kant's assertion of moral
feeling as the basis of practical certainty and denial of absolute
intellectual knowledge, and by Schleiermacher's affirmation of
religious consciousness as the foundation of conviction. Yet
Schleiermacher's assertion of the normative value of religious
consciousness was, to his thinking, too individual. The real
consciousness is not that of the individual, but that of the
Christian community, the church. Nor is that consciousness
a source of abstract speculative knowledge. It has to do with
eminently practical, personal relationships — those of God and
the religious community — sin and salvation. Hence "natural"
or speculative philosophic theology is valueless. Philosophy
may give, as with Aristotle, a "first cause" ; but that is far from
a loving Father. Such a practical revelation is made to us
only through Christ. That revelation is mediated to us through
the consciousness of the first disciples. Hence the Old Testa
ment, as revealing their religious background, and especially
the New Testament, as recording their consciousness of Christ
and His Gospel, are of supreme value. To ascertain the re
ligious consciousness recorded in the Old and New Testaments,
no theory of inspiration is necessary, only normal historical
investigation.
Though Ritschl thus rejected metaphysics as an aid to
Christian truth, he made much use of a theory of knowledge
advocated by the philosopher Rudolf Hermann Lotze (1817-
1881). While it is true, Lotze held with Kant, that things
as they are in themselves cannot be known, he affirmed that
they are truly known in their attributes or activities. A brick
pavement is known, and truly known, to me as a sidewalk.
To the ants whose mounds of sand rise between the bricks it
may be a home. What it is abstractly or in itself I have no
RECENT GERMAN TENDENCIES 543
means of knowing. If that knowledge in its attributes is one
affecting my cpnduct it is a "value judgment." So Ritschl
held that to those who came in contact with Him in the first
Christian community, Christ was truly a revelation of what
God is in love, the pattern of what man may be, the bearer of
God's moral authority over men, and the Founder of the king
dom of God. As such He was truly known ; but to ask whether
He was pre-existent, was of two natures, or was one person of
a Trinity, is to ask what the experience of the early church
could not answer, and what only metaphysics could assert or
deny. This recognition of what Christ is and signifies, arouses
faith in men, that is trust and love toward God through Christ.
This new attitude is accompanied by the forgiveness and re
moval of sin, which constituted the barrier between man and
God — justification — and the new relationship expresses itself
in desire to do the will of God and to live the life of the king
dom — reconciliation. The Christian life is essentially social,
hence Redeemer, redeemed, and the redeemed community are
inseparable conceptions. These ideas of salvation Ritschl
believed have never been more clearly formulated, in later
church history, than by Luther.
Ritschl's spiritual disciples have been by no means blind
followers, and much variety of interpretation may be found
among them. Their influence among those in leadership in
German religious thinking is great. Among them may be men
tioned the prince of church historians, Adolf von Harnack, of
Berlin (1851-), his eminent younger contemporary, Friedrich
Loofs of Halle (1858-) ; and of theologians, Ferdinand Kat-
tenbusch of Halle (1851-) and Wilhelm Herrmann of Mar
burg (1846-). In general, the Ritschlians have been marked by
an earnest, vital religious life, and a contagious warmth of piety.
In spite of the spread of Ritschlianism the school of Baur was
continued in modified form, with Hegelian outlook in meta
physics, by Otto Pfleiderer of Berlin (1839-1908).
More conservative than the Ritschlian school, yet with much
influence from modern problems, is Reinhold Seeberg (1859-)
of Berlin, who presents "a modern positive theology."
Yet a reaction from the emphasis of Ritschl was almost in
evitable. His rejection of metaphysics, his assertion of the
fundamental uniformity of religious experience now and in
the days of primitive Christianity, were sure to arouse question.
544 RECENT GERMAN TENDENCIES
Especially the rise of the study of comparative religions was
certain to awake inquiry whether that principle of growth un
der the influence of external religious and philosophical ideas
which Ritschl himself had applied so brilliantly to the develop
ment of Christian doctrine, when once that was planted in the
world, was not to be applied, as he had not, to the beginnings
of Christianity itself. The result is the rising, though as yet
far from dominant, Religions geschichtliche school which counts
such representatives as William Wrede (1859-1906) of Breslau,
Wilhelm Bousset (1865-) of Gottingen, and especially Ernst
Troeltsch (1865-) of Heidelberg.
It is evident that German theological development is still in
progress.
SECTION XIII. ENGLAND IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY
English religious life in the opening years of the nineteenth
century was dominated by the spiritual awakening of the great
Methodist revival, which was leading to large separation from
the establishment (ante, pp. 518, 519). In the establishment
that revived zeal was represented by the Evangelical, or low-
church party, like the Methodists, keenly alive to works of
practical and missionary activity (ante, pp. 519-523) ; yet it
was far from dominating the Church of England as a whole.
Its enterprise and its good works were in contrast to the apathy
of the establishment in general. Intellectually, all parties in
the Church of England stood on the basis of the rather pro
vincial discussions of the eighteenth century. Theology was
looked upon in the same rationalistic fashion — a system of in
tellectual demonstration, or of authoritative revelation, or
both combined. The stirrings of new intellectual forces were
being felt however. English poetry flowered into splendid
blossoming with the opening years of the nineteenth century.
Romanticism, as powerfully as in Germany (ante, p. 529), was
beginning to produce an intellectual atmosphere wholly unlike
that of the preceding age. The novels of Sir Walter Scott are
familiar illustrations of this new outlook. A new humanitari-
anism, largely due to the Methodist revival, was developing,
and was to be manifested multitudinously in reformatory
movements. All the tendencies were sure to affect theological
thinking and religious ideals.
COLERIDGE 545
Probably the most stimulating force in the religious thinking
of the first quarter of the nineteenth century was that of
Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834), eminent as a poet, lit
erary critic, and philosopher. A Neo-Platonist in his early
sympathies, study in Germany, in 1798 and 1799, led to ulti
mate acquaintance not only with the masters of German litera
ture but with the thought of Kant, Fichte, and Schelling, and
a philosophical outlook then fully unfamiliar in England.
Coleridge never worked out a rounded system. His most
significant volume was his Aids to Reflection of 1825. Over
against the rationalizing of Paley he held to a distinction be
tween " reason " and " understanding." To Coleridge " reason "
was a power of intuitive perception, an "inward beholding,"
by which religious truths are directly perceived. This "moral
reason" has, as its associate "conscience," which is an uncon
ditional command, and has as its postulates the moral law, a
divine lawgiver, and a future life. Religious certainty is thus
based not on external proofs but on religious consciousness.
Hence, he has been called the "English Schleiermacher." In
most respects Coleridge was the forerunner of the broad-
church way of thinking ; but in his emphasis on the church as
a divine institution, higher and nobler than anything "by law
established," he prepared the way for the high-church party.
The work of Coleridge in its religious aspects was continued
by Thomas Arnold (1795-1842), who began his famous master
ship of Rugby in 1828. A man of profound and simple Chris
tian faith, his helpfulness to his pupils was great. His views
much resembled those of Herder (ante, p. 532). The Bible is
a literature, to be understood in the light of the times in which
it was written, but its divine truth finds us.
Biblical criticism was furthered, in a very moderate fashion,
by Henry Hart Milman (1791-1868), dean of St. Paul's, Lon
don, from 1849, by his History of the Jews of 1829, in which he
applied critical methods to the Old Testament. His most
valuable work was his History of Latin Christianity of 1855.
Not willing to be reckoned to the broad-church school, yet
contributing much to its spread, was John Frederick Denison
Maurice (1805-1872). The son of a Unitarian minister, he
conformed to the establishment, and became chaplain of
Guy's Hospital in London. In 1840 he was appointed to a
chair in King's College, of which he was deprived for his opin-
546 THE BROAD-CHURCH TENDENCY
ions in 1853. The year after he founded the Working Men's
College, and was instrumental in inaugurating a Christian
socialist movement. In 1866 he was appointed to a pro
fessorship in Cambridge. To Maurice's thinking, Christ is
the Head of all humanity. None are under the curse of God.
All are sons, who need no other reconciliation than a recogni
tion by them of their sonship, with the filial love and service
to which such recognition will naturally lead. All will ulti
mately be brought home to God and none forever lost.
Not very unlike Maurice in his theology, but primarily a
great preacher, was Frederick William Robertson (1816-1853),
educated under Evangelical influences, then passing through
a period of intense questioning to a broad-church position.
From 1847 to his early death he was minister in Brighton. No
English sermons of the last century have been so influential on
both sides of the Atlantic as those of Robertson. Spiritual
truth must be spiritually discerned rather than intellectually
proved. The nobility of Christ's humanity attests and leads
to faith in His divinity.
Much influence in the spread of broad-church opinions was
wielded by Charles Kingsley (1819-1875), rector of Eversley,
the novelist, and by Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809-1892), whose
In Memoriam of 1850 was fully a broad-church poem. Sim
ilarly to be reckoned were Arthur Penrhyn Stanley (1815-1881),
dean of Westminster, and Frederic William Farrar (1831-1903),
dean of Canterbury. Great commotion was caused in 1860
by the Essays and Reviews, in which a group of Oxford scholars
tried to present Christianity in the light of contemporary sci
ence and historical criticism, and by the trial of Bishop John
William Colenso (1814-1883) of Natal for his Pentateuchal
criticism published in 1862. The broad church was, however,
never, strictly speaking, a party. Its numbers were relatively
few, but its influence on English religious thought, in varying
degrees, wide-spread. In the last half-century England, like
other Protestant lands, has witnessed the steady advance of
Biblical criticism, championed conspicuously by Samuel Rolles
Driver (1846-1914) and Thomas Kelly Cheyne (1841-1915),
both of Oxford.
The Evangelical or low-church party has remained largely
represented in the Church of England, especially among the
laity.
RISE OF THE ANGLO-CATHOLIC PARTY 547
By far the largest movement within the Church of England
in the nineteenth century in numerical, and in many respects
in spiritual, significance has been the development of the high-
church, or Anglo-Catholic party. The early years of the second
quarter of the nineteenth century saw several significant
breaches in the exclusive privileges of the establishment. The
Test (ante, p. 475) and Corporation Acts were repealed in
1828. Roman [Catholics were made eligible to the House of
Commons and to most public offices in 1829. The July Revo
lution of 1830 in France stimulated a demand for reform in
parliamentary representation, which triumphed, after heated
struggles, in 1832, and transferred power largely from the
landed gentry to the middle classes, thus increasing Non-
Conformist influence. To many conservative churchmen it
seemed that the foundations of church and state were being
removed. They were disposed to raise the question of the
nature of the church itself. Is it an essentially unalterable
divine institution, or may it be altered, as so often since the
Reformation, by government enactment? The form their an
swer took was to be determined largely by the romantic re
vival of interest in the primitive and mediaeval.
During these discussions several young clergymen, mostly
associated with Oriel College, Oxford, were led to take the steps
that inaugurated the "Oxford movement," as it was often
called, which was the birth of the Anglo-Catholic party. Prob
ably the most influential of the group, while his brief life lasted,
was Richard Hurrell Froude (1803-1836). To him the church
is in possession of the truth, important elements of which primi
tive endowment were repudiated by the reformers. A revival
of fasting, clerical celibacy, reverence for the saints and
"Catholic usages" he deemed imperative. Closely associated
with Froude was a man of great pulpit and intellectual abili
ties, whose early training had been Evangelical, but who had
come to share Fronde's feelings, John Henry Newman (1801-
1890). A third of the Oriel group was John Keble (1792-1866),
of Nonjuror ancestry, and already distinguished as the author
of the most popular volume of religious poetry that was issued
in the nineteenth century, The Christian Year of 1827. In
hearty sympathy stood a Cambridge scholar, Hugh James
Rose (1795-1838), who founded the British Magazine in 1832,
to further faith in the divine authority and essential unchange-
548 KEBLE, NEWMAN, AND PUSEY
ableness of the church. To all these men the course of recent
political events seemed menacing. The formal beginning of
the Anglo-Catholic movement is usually associated with
Keble's sermon of July 14, 1833, in Oxford, on the National
Apostasy. In September of that year Keble formulated the
principles for which he and his associates stood. The way to
salvation is through reception of the body and blood of Christ
in the Eucharist, which is validly administered only through
those in apostolical succession. This is the treasure of the
church — a church which must in all ways be restored to the
purity of its undivided early centuries.
The same month Newman began the publication of the fa
mous Tracts for the Times, which gave to the movement they
fostered the name "Tractarianism." By 1835 these associates
had won the support of one who, next to Newman, and fully
after Newman's defection, was to be its leader, Edward Bou-
verie Pusey (1800-1882). A man of great earnestness and
piety, Pusey was so fully ultimately to become the head of the
Anglo-Catholic movement, that it was largely called "Pusey-
ism" — to Pusey it was the revival of primitive Christianity.
Of these Tracts, of which ninety were issued, Newman wrote
twenty-three. Keble, Pusey, and Froude, with others, also
contributed. To Newman the Church of England was the
golden mean between Protestantism and Rome; but as the
series went on the writers emphasized increasingly those doc
trines and practices which, though undoubtedly ancient, are
popularly identified with Rome. Thus, Pusey taught the re
generative nature of baptism and the sacrificial aspect of the
Lord's Supper. Confession was commended. Reserve was
to be practised in the use of the Bible and the proclamation of
religious truth. It was the ninetieth Tract by Newman, in
1841, that aroused most controversy. Newman held that the
Thirty-nine Articles were not to be interpreted in accordance
with the intention of their authors, but in the "sense of the
Catholic Church." The bishop of Oxford now forbad the con
tinuation of the Tracts.
Newman was at the height of his influence when Tract Ninety
was published. The Anglo-Catholic movement numbered
hundreds of followers among the clergy. Newman was doubt
ing, however, the catholicity of the Church of England, and on
October 9, 1845, he made his submission to Rome. Several
THE ANGLO-CATHOLIC PARTY 549
hundred clergy and laymen followed him into the Roman com
munion, of whom the most distinguished was Henry Edward
Manning (1808-1892), who conformed to Rome in 1851, and
was created a cardinal in 1875. Great excitement was caused in
1850 by the re-establishment in England by Pope Pius IX of the
Roman Catholic diocesan episcopate, which had been in abey
ance since the Reformation. Manning became an extreme
ultramontane supporter of papal claims, unlike Newman, who
was always moderate, and who, though the most eminent of
English Roman Catholics, was not given a cardinalate till
1879.
These conversions to Rome were a severe blow to the Anglo-
Catholic party, but it weathered the storm under Pusey's able
leadership, and in a few years was stronger than ever. As its
doctrinal modifications became established, it concerned itself
increasingly with the "enrichment" of the liturgy, by the in
troduction of usages which Protestantism had discarded.
These changes encountered much popular and legal opposition ;
but the modifications desired by the ritualists have been largely
secured. In 1860 the English Church Union, now widely ex
tended, was organized to support high-church faith and prac
tice. The high-church movement is still a growing force in the
Church of England. To a degree unparalleled in other coun
tries, the laity of England, with conspicuous exceptions, are
disposed to regard disputes between the various parties in the
Church of England as clerical problems, so that lay religious
life in the establishment is more uniform than might be sup
posed.
Any estimate of the Anglo-Catholic movement would be
erroneous that failed to recognize its profound religious zeal.
If it has Romanized the worship and the theology of the church
—it would prefer to say Catholicized it — it has shown marvel
lous devotion, especially to the poor, neglected, and unchurched.
It has done much to regain the hold of the church on the lower
classes which seemed to have almost ceased when the move
ment began. Its sympathy with the destitute and delinquent
has been intelligent and self-sacrificing. It has been a real
awakening of religion, alike in faith and good works.
The sister Protestant state church of Ireland/always an anom
aly in that it was the governmentally supported church of a
minority of the population, was disestablished in 1869. It has
550 THE NON-CONFORMISTS
endured this change in its fortunes with no diminution of effect
iveness.
The nineteenth century was marked by a steady diminution
of the disabilities resting on Non-Conformists. In 1813 the Uni
tarians obtained relief by the repeal of penal acts against deniers
of the Trinity. The Test and Corporation Acts were abolished
in 1828. Marriages were permitted in dissenting places of
worship in 1836. Non-Conformists were freed from taxes for
the benefit of the establishment in 1868. In 1871 all religious
tests, save for degrees in theology, were abolished at the Uni
versities of Oxford, Cambridge, and Durham. In 1880 Non-
Conformist services were permitted at burials in churchyards.
Non-Conformity has steadily grown, and is supposed to em
brace at least half the population of England. Its strength is
in the middle classes. It has produced preachers of great
power, and has had its scholars and its social workers, but in
scholarship and in work for the unchurched it has been less em
inent than the Church of England. The tendency among the
larger Evangelical Non-Conformist bodies has been strongly
toward federation. Since 1893 England and Wales have been
organized into a complete system of local "councils," embrac
ing Baptists, Congregationalists, Methodists, Presbyterians,
and Quakers, each local church being primarily responsible for
its own territory — thus preventing competition. These "coun
cils" are united in "federations," and all culminating in the
National Council of Evangelical Free Churches.
Three movements of interest have taken place among English
Non-Conformists. Edward Irving (1792-1834) was a Scottish
Presbyterian minister in London, of eloquence and mystic ten
dencies. By 1828 he had become persuaded that the "gifts"
of the apostolic age would be restored if faith was sufficient.
Though no claimant to them himself, he believed by 1830
that his hopes had been fulfilled in others. In 1832 he was
deposed from his Presbyterian ministry. Soon after, six Apos
tles were believed to be designated by prophecy, which num
ber was similarly completed to twelve in 1835. The body
thus led took the name Catholic Apostolic Church. In 1842
an elaborate ritual was adopted. The Apostles were regarded
as organs of the Holy Spirit. The speedy coming of Christ
was long expected, but the last Apostle died in 1901. The
church is represented also in Germany and the United States.
PLYMOUTH BRETHREN. SALVATION ARMY 551
A second movement grew out of reaction against the unspiri-
tuality of the establishment in the early years of the nineteenth
century. Groups of "brethren," who claimed faith and Chris
tian love as their only bonds, gathered in Ireland and western
England. Their great increase was through the labors of
John Nelson Darby (1800-1882), formerly a clergyman, in the
vicinity of Plymouth about 1830. They are therefore generally
nicknamed "Plymouth Brethren." To their thinking all be
lievers are priests, and hence formal ministries are to be re
jected. Creeds are to be refused. The Holy Spirit guides all
true believers, and unites them in faith and worship after the
apostolic model. Though professedly rejecting all denomina-
tionalism, the "brethren" found themselves speedily com
pelled to corporate acts of discipline, and are divided into at
least six groups. Darby was an indefatigable propagandist.
Through his efforts the "brethren" were planted in Switzer
land, France, Germany, Canada, and the United States.
Among their eminent adherents have been George Miiller
(1805-1898), whose remarkable orphan houses in Bristol were
supported, he believed, largely in direct answer to prayer; and
Samuel Prideaux Tregelles (1813-1875), the eminent student
of the Greek text of the New Testament.
The most important of these new organizations is the Sal
vation Army. Its creator, William Booth (1829-1912), was a
New Connection Methodist minister, who, after successful
revival work in Cardiff, began similar labors in London in
1864, out of which an organization in military form, with mili
tary obedience, developed in 1878, to which the name Salva
tion Army was given in 1880. Always strongly engaged in
practical philanthropy as well as street evangelism, the philan
thropic work was developed on a great scale from 1890 onward,
when Booth published his In Darkest England and the Way
Out. In spite of its autocratic military form, the Salvation
Army is in many respects a church. Though open to the charge
of occasional arbitrariness, it has done an immense and benefi
cent work for the defective and delinquent, and has extended
to all English-speaking lands, as well as to France, Germany,
Switzerland, Italy, the Scandinavian lands, and the Orient.
The most powerful impulse toward modern religious think
ing, the world over, that was contributed by England in the
nineteenth century came from the work of a naturalist who,
552 DARWIN AND EVOLUTION
though a Christian believer in early life, was all his maturer
years a tolerant agnostic, Charles Robert Darwin (1809-1882).
A man of great keenness of investigation, remarkable powers of
generalization, and transparent honesty in his use of facts and
in his readiness to abandon all inferences which continued
observations did not warrant, his long and patient work was
done under the constant handicap of ill health. A voyage of
nearly five years, 1831 to 1836, as naturalist of the surveying
ship Beagle, laid the foundations of his knowledge. In 1859
came his Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection, in which
he elaborated his theories of evolution and of the survival of
the fittest, reached practically contemporaneously by his friend,
Alfred Russel Wallace (1823-1913). No scientific theory since
Newton's doctrine of gravitation (ante, p. 483) has been so
transforming in all realms of thought. Much modified in de
tails since promulgated, the theory of evolutionary develop
ment, though accepted with varying degrees of fulness, has
profoundly modified much theological thinking, and has to be
taken into most serious consideration even by those who deny
its applicability to the realm of religion.
SECTION XIV. SCOTTISH DIVISIONS AND REUNIONS
Presbyterianism was established as the state church of
Scotland under William and Mary in 1690. In 1707 England
and Scotland were united into one kingdom of Great Britain;
but the independent rights of the Church of Scotland were
safeguarded. Under Queen Anne, in 1712, two important acts
were passed by Parliament. By one the status of a tolerated
communion was given to episcopacy, then strongly intrenched
in northern Scotland. The other, destined to be the source
of infinite trouble, permitted "patrons," usually the crown or
the great landlords, to force appointments of Presbyterian
ministers on hostile parishioners. Controversies were soon tur-
moiling the Scottish church. In 1718 an anonymous seven
teenth-century work, The Marrow of Modern Divinity, was re-
published at the instigation of Thomas Boston (1676-1732),
of Ettrick, a zealous popular preacher. The Marrow seemed
antinomian to a large portion of the ministry, as so putting an
emphasis on faith in Christ as to exclude even the necessity of
repentance. Boston won sympathy. In 1722 the "Marrow-
SCOTTISH FREE CHURCHES 553
men" were censured by the General Assembly. They rep
resented unquestionably, however, a warm Evangelical spirit.
One of these "Marrowmen," Ebenezer Erskine (1680-1754),
of Stirling, a preacher of power, denounced all limitation of the
power of the congregation to choose its minister, in 1733. He
was disciplined by his synod, and he and several associates
were deposed by the General Assembly in 1740. Before these
censures were completed they had founded the first Scottish
free church, ultimately known as the Secession Church. It
grew rapidly, but was soon turmoiled over the question whether
the burgesses of the Scottish cities could properly swear to
support "the true religion . . . authorized by the laws" of
Scotland. In 1747 the Secession Church divided into Anti-
Burgher, or Nonjuror, and Burgher sections. Further sub
divisions occurred, but most of the Anti-Burghers and Burgh
ers united, in 1820, as the United Secession Church.
The question of patronage continued divisive. Thomas
Gillespie (1708-1774), of Carnock, refused to participate in
the installation of a minister over an unwilling congregation,
and was deposed by the General Assembly in 1752. In 1761
he and like-minded ministers founded the organization which
became the Relief Church. These various secessions won large
popular support, especially among the more earnest-minded.
By 1765 they counted one hundred and twenty congregations,
and one hundred thousand adherents. In 1847 the United Se
cession Church and the Relief Church combined as the United
Presbyterian Church.
Under these circumstances the state church was robbed of
a good deal of its spiritual strength. Rationalistic thought
penetrated Scotland as the eighteenth century advanced, as con
temporaneously in England and Germany. Hume's specula
tions (ante, p. 490) were not without influence. The result
was the growth of what was called Moderatism, which was con
trolling in the latter half of the eighteenth century, and influ
ential well into the nineteenth. To the Moderates generally
Christianity was largely ethical rather than strongly experi
ential or doctrinal. It was believed that the patronage system
favored the appointment of Moderates, where congregations
would often have chosen men of more Evangelical type. With
the reaction from the French Revolution, the rise of Romanti
cism, and the general revolt from the rationalism of the eight-
554 THOMAS CHALMERS
eenth century, a warm-hearted Evangelicalism, in sympathy
also with the liberal political aspirations of the people, began
to contest the field with Moderatism. '
From 1815, when he entered on a memorable pastorate in
Glasgow, the most eminent of the Evangelical party was Thomas
Chalmers (1780-1847), distinguished as a preacher, a social re
former, a mathematician, a theological teacher, and an ecclesias
tical statesman. Under his leadership, and in the changed spirit
of the times, the Evangelical party rapidly grew in strength.
Under Chalmers's guidance a great campaign to meet the needs
of the growing population of Scotland was inaugurated, which
resulted by 1841 in the erection of two hundred and twenty
new churches by popular gifts. The old question of pat
ronage still continued burning. In 1834 the growing Evangeli
cal party secured the passage by the General Assembly of a
"veto" rule, by which presbyteries were forbidden to proceed
to installation where a majority of the congregation were op
posed to the candidate. This rule soon involved legal contro
versy. The courts held that the General Assembly had ex
ceeded its powers. Parliament was asked for relief, which was
refused. Under Chalmers's leadership, therefore, some four
hundred and seventy-four ministers formally withdrew from
the state church in 1843 and founded the Free Church of
Scotland. They gave up parishes and salaries. All had to
be provided anew ; but the enthusiasm and sacrifice of the new
body was equal to the task. In general, it was a withdrawal of
the Evangelical element from the already considerably modified
but less zealous and spiritual "Moderates." A third, and that
the most active part, of the state church had gone out. Yet
the example of the seceders worked ultimately for a quickening
of zeal in the state church itself. In 1874 the rights of patron
age, the original ground of division, were abolished by law.
The older separatist bodies, combined since 1847 as the
United Presbyterian Church, had long rejected connection
with the state. The new Free Church of Scotland had
practically to take the same position, though Chalmers and its
early leaders clung to the conception of a national state church,
free from hampering state dictation. This contention was
rendered academic by the logic of facts. All circumstances
counselled union, and therefore, on October 31, 1900, the vast
majority of the Free Church of Scotland and the United
SCOTTISH FREE CHURCHES 555
Presbyterian Church were joined in one body as the United
Free Church of Scotland.
A minority of the old Free Church refused the union, in
all some sixty-three congregations, mostly in the Highlands,
small and strongly conservative in theology and practice.
This body was popularly known as the Wee Frees. It
brought legal claim to the property of the whole former Free
Church. In 1904 the law judges of the House of Lords
awarded to the Wee Frees their whole claim, on the ground
that the Free Church majority, in combining with the pro
fessedly independent United Presbyterians, had abandoned the
early Free Church belief in a purified state church. The
situation created was not merely unjust, but absurd. Relief
was sought from Parliament, and in 1905 the property was
divided fairly equitably by a commission between the Wee
Frees and their former brethren, on the basis of ability to
make effective use of it. The growth of modern views in the
ology was also recognized by Parliament, in this act of 1905,
by permission to the state church to formulate the terms of
subscription to the ancient confessions as it may see fit.
The vast majority of independent Presbyterians being thus
joined in the United Free Church of Scotland, and many of
the grounds of contention with the state church having been
removed, a union between the two in the near future is probable
—foreshadowed by the merger, in 1916, of the theological
schools of the established church and the United Free Church
in Aberdeen and Edinburgh.
SECTION XV. ROMAN CATHOLICISM
The Counter-Reformation had spent its force by the middle
of the seventeenth century. Its strength had been in the
might of Spain and the zeal of the Jesuit order. Spain had
emerged from the Thirty Years' War shorn of its power. The
Jesuits, though more potent than ever in the counsels of the
Roman Church, had become more worldly, and had kept little
of their earlier spiritual zeal. None of the Popes of the seven
teenth or eighteenth centuries were men of commanding force.
Several, like Innocent XI (1676-1689), Innocent XII (1691-
1700), or Benedict XIV (1740-1758), were of excellent character
and intentions, but they were not rulers of men. The course
556 JESUITS AND JANSENISTS
of the Roman Church was one of increasing feebleness in the
face of the growing claims of the Catholic civil governments.
A really effective attack upon Protestantism was no longer pos
sible, save where it existed, as in France, in predominantly
Roman lands.
Under Louis XIV (1643-1715) the French monarchy pur
sued a policy dictated by the King's absolutism. As against
papal claim he asserted possession by the crown of all income
of vacant bishoprics, and favored the proclamation by the
French clergy in 1682 of the "Gallican liberties," that civil
rulers have full authority in temporal affairs, that general coun
cils are superior to the Pope, that the usages of the French
church limit papal interference, and that the Pope is not in
fallible. The resulting quarrel was compromised in 1693 in
such wise that the clergy practically withdrew their assertions,
but the King kept the disputed income.
As against his own subjects, Louis XIV's policy was deter
mined by his conception of national unity and Jesuit influence,
especially after his marriage to Madame de Maintenon in
1684. In 1685 he revoked the Edict of Nantes (ante, p. 441),
and made Protestantism illegal under the severest penalties.
The ultimate result was disastrous for France. Thousands of
its most industrious citizens emigrated to England, Holland,
Germany, and America. The former alliances with Protestant
Powers were ruptured, contributing much to the military fail
ures of the latter years of Louis XIV's reign.
Jesuit influence led to equally disastrous opposition by the
King and Pope to Jansenism. Cornelius Jansen (1585-1638),
bishop of Ypres, an earnest Catholic, was a thoroughgoing
Augustinian, convinced that the semi-Pelagian Jesuit inter
pretations of sin and grace must be combated. His chief work,
Augustinus, was published in 1640, after his death. Jansen's
book was condemned by Pope Urban VIII (1623-1644) in 1642,
but Jansen's views found much support among the more deeply
religious Catholics of France, notably in the nunnery of Port
Royal, near Paris. The most influential opponent of the
Jesuits was Blaise Pascal (1623-1662), especially in his Lettres
Provinciates of 1656. Louis XIV supported the Jesuit hos
tility to Jansenism, and persecuted its followers. In 1710 the
buildings of Port Royal were torn down. Jansenism had found
a new leader of power in Pasquier Quesnel (1634-1719), who
THE CATASTROPHE OF THE JESUITS 557
had to seek safety in the Netherlands. His devotional com
mentary, Moral Reflections on the New Testament, of 1687-1692,
aroused bitter Jesuit hostility, and through their efforts Pope
Clement XI (1700-1721), by the bull Unigenitus of 1713,
condemned one hundred and one of Quesnel's statements, some
taken literally from Augustine. Louis Antoine de Noailles
(1651-1729), cardinal archbishop of Paris, protested and ap
pealed to a general council. Opposition was, however, vain.
The Jesuits, supported by the French monarchy, ultimately
triumphed.
Partly through this Jansenist controversy, and partly by
reason of quarrels between the Jesuits and the older Roman
clergy, a division occurred in Utrecht, in the Netherlands, from
which in 1723 a small, independent, so-called Jansenist Cath
olic Church originated, which still exists, with an archbishop in
Utrecht, and bishops in Haarlem and Deventer.
For France the expulsion of the Huguenots and the triumph
of the Jesuits were great misfortunes. While much variety of
religious interpretation was possible in England, Germany, and
Holland, within the bounds of Christianity, in eighteenth-cen
tury France the choice was only between Romanism of the
narrow Jesuit type, which many of its own noblest sons con
demned, and the rapidly rising tide of the new rationalism of a
Voltaire and his associates (ante, p. 492). Thousands pre
ferred the latter, and the destructive results were to be obvious
in the French Revolutionary treatment of the church.
The latter half of the eighteenth century brought to the
Jesuits their greatest catastrophe. They had largely engaged
in colonial trade, in spite of its prohibition in their own consti
tutions; their political influence was notorious, and they had
the hostility of the radical rationalism of the age. In this
latter force they found their most determined foes. The power
ful minister of King Joseph of Portugal (1750-1777), the mar
quis of Pombal (1699-1782), was a man of rationalistic sym
pathies. He was angered by Jesuit resistance to his policy in
Paraguay. He opposed the free-trade attitude of the Jesuits.
In 1759 he enforced the deportation of all Jesuits from Por
tuguese territory with ruthless high hand. France contempo
raneously was aroused by the scandalous bankruptcy of the
Jesuit Lavelette in Martinique. The controlling force in the
French Government was that of the duke of Choiseul (1719-
558 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION
1785), a sympathizer with the Enlightenment. He was also
aided by Madame de Pompadour, the mistress of Louis XV
(1715-1774). A large part of the French clergy were also hos
tile to the Jesuits. In 1764 the Jesuits were suppressed in
France. Spain and Naples expelled them in 1767. The rulers
of these lands now forced from Pope Clement XIV (1769-1774)
the abolition of the order in July, 1773. These events attested
the weakness of the papacy. The Jesuits continued existence
in non-Roman Russia and in Protestant Prussia.
The growth of tolerance in France is shown by the exemp
tion from persecution accorded to Protestants by the govern
ment of Louis XVI in 1787.
The tremendous storm of the French Revolution was about
to break and to sweep away the church, with the nobility, the
throne, and kindred ancient institutions. The Revolutionary
leaders were filled with the rationalistic spirit. They viewed
the churches as religious clubs. In 1789 church lands were
declared national property. In 1790 the monasteries were
abolished. The same year the civil constitution of the clergy
overthrew the old ecclesiastical divisions, made each "depart
ment" a bishopric, and provided for the election of all priests
by the legal voters of their communities. The constitution of
1791 pledged complete religious freedom. In 1793 the Jacobin
leaders procured the abolition of Christianity. Hundreds of
ecclesiastics were beheaded. After the "terror" was over, in
1795, religious freedom was once more proclaimed, though the
state, as such, was to be without religion. It was, in real
ity, strongly antichristian. This situation was extended by
French conquests to the Netherlands, northern Italy, and Swit
zerland. In 1798 Rome was made a republic by French arms,
and Pope Pius VI (1775-1799) carried a prisoner to France,
where he died.
The military events of 1800 led to the election of Pius VII
(1800-1823) and the restoration of the States of the Church.
Napoleon, on attaining power, though himself without religious
feeling, recognized that a majority of the French people were
Roman Catholics, and that the church might be used by him.
The result was the Concordat with the papacy in 1801 and
the Organic Articles of 1802. By the former, the church sur
rendered all confiscated lands not still held by the government.
Those in government possession were restored to it. Appoint-
NAPOLEON AND THE CHURCH 559
ment of bishops and archbishops were to be by the Pope on
nomination by the state. Lower clergy were appointed by
bishops, but the state had a veto power. Clergy were to be
paid from the state treasury. By the Organic Articles no papal
decrees were to be published or French synods held without
governmental allowance. To Protestants full religious rights
were accorded, at the same time, and the pay of their minis
ters and control of their affairs assumed by the state. Napoleon
soon quarrelled with Pius VII, annexed the States of the Church
in 1809, and held the Pope a prisoner from that time till 1814.
Napoleon's Concordat was to rule the relations of France and
the papacy for more than a century. Intended to place the
French Catholic Church under the control of the government,
and accomplishing that result under Napoleon, its real effect
was to make the French clergy look to the Pope as their sole
aid against the state. By ignoring all ancient local rights, it
really ruined all Gallican claims to partial freedom, and opened
the door to that Ultramontane spirit characteristic of French
Catholicism throughout the nineteenth century.
The wars of the republican and Napoleonic periods resulted
in far-reaching changes in Germany. The old ecclesiastical
territories practically ceased to exist in 1803, and were divided
between the secular states. In 1806 Francis II (1792-1835)
resigned the title Holy Roman Emperor. He had already as
sumed that of Emperor of Austria. It was the passing of a
venerable institution, the Holy Roman Empire, which had,
indeed, been long but a shadow, but which was bound up with
medieval memories of the relations of church and state.
Napoleon's downfall was followed by universal reaction.
The old seemed of value by its antiquity. It was to be years
before the real progress effected by the Revolutionary age was
to be manifest. This reaction was aided by the rise of Roman
ticism with its new appreciation of the mediaeval and rejection
of that spirit of the eighteenth century which had been dominant
in the Revolution. The papacy profited by all these impulses
and soon developed a strength greater than it had shown for a
hundred years. A characteristic evidence of this new position
of the papacy was the restoration, by Pius VII, in August, 1814,
of the Jesuits, who speedily regained their old ascendancy in
papal counsels, and their wide extended activities, though not
their former political power. They have, in turn, been fore-
560 UTRAMONTANISM. PIUS IX
most in the development and support of papal authority. At
the same time the restoration of the power of the Roman
Church was accompanied and made possible by a real revival
of piety that has continued to characterize it to the present
day.
Roman development during the nineteenth century has
been in the direction of the assertion of papal supremacy, that
called Utramontanism — i. e., beyond the mountains from the
point of view of northern and western Europe — that is Italian.
To this Ultramontane tendency to exalt the papacy above all
national or local ecclesiasticism the Jesuits have powerfully
contributed. Pius VIFs successor, Leo XII (1823-1829), was
reactionary, condemning, like his predecessor, the work of
Bible societies. Gregory XVI (1831-1846) was a patron of
learning, but reactionary toward modern social and political
ideals. This essentially mediaeval outlook and refusal to make
terms with the modern world led to the formation, in the first
half of the nineteenth century, of clerical and anticlerical
parties in Catholic countries, whose contests have largely de
termined the politics of those lands to the present.
The Ultramontane tendencies found their conspicuous illus
tration in the papacy of Pius IX (1846-1878). Beginning his
pontificate at a time when the States of the Church were on
the edge of revolt because the leading political offices were held
by the clergy, he was at first a political reformer ; but the task
proved too much for him and he adopted a reactionary political
policy which made it necessary to seek the support of foreign
soldiery and rendered the people dissatisfied with his political
rule. In religion he was sincerely convinced that in the papacy
is a divinely appointed institution to which the modern world
can appeal for the decision of its vexed religious problems.
He desired to make this evident. In December, 1854, after
consultation with the bishops of the Roman Church, he pro
claimed the immaculate conception of the Virgin — that is, that
Mary shared in no taint of original sin. The question had been
in discussion since the Middle Ages, though the balance of
Catholic opinion in the nineteenth century was overwhelmingly
in favor of the view approved by the Pope. He elevated it,
by his own act, into a necessary dogma of faith.
In 1864 a Syllabus of Errors, prepared under papal auspices,
condemned many things which most Christians oppose; but
THE VATICAN COUNCIL 561
also repudiated much which is the foundation of modern states,
like the separation of church and state, non-sectarian schools,
toleration of varieties in religion, and concluded by condemn
ing the claim that "the Roman Pontiff can and ought to rec
oncile himself to, and agree with, progress, liberalism, and
civilization as lately introduced."
The crowning event of Pius IX's pontificate was the Vatican
Council. Opened on December 8, 1869, with a remarkably
large attendance from all over the Roman world, its most im
portant result was the affirmation, on July 18, 1870, of the doc
trine of papal infallibility by a vote of five hundred and thirty-
three to two. It was far from asserting that all papal utterances
are infallible. To be so the Pope must expound, in his official
capacity, "the revelation or deposit of faith delivered through
the Apostles." "The Roman pontiff, when he speaks ex
cathedra, that is, when in discharge of the office of pastor and
doctor of all Christians, by virtue of his supreme apostolic
authority, he defines a doctrine regarding faith or morals to
be held by the universal church, by the divine assistance prom
ised to him in blessed Peter, is possessed of that infallibility
with which the divine Redeemer willed that His church should
be endowed." Thus the Vatican Council sealed the triumph
of Ultramontanism. It was the completion of the absolute
papal monarchy, and the overthrow of that doctrine of the
supremacy of a general council which had loomed so large in
the fifteenth century (ante, pp. 306-312), and had not been
without its representatives since.
Though undoubtedly the logical outcome of centuries of
papal development, this doctrinal definition encountered con
siderable opposition, especially in Germany. The most emi
nent refuser of conformity was the distinguished Munich his
torian, Johann Joseph Ignaz von Dollinger (1799-1890), but
though excommunicated, he declined to initiate a schism.
What he refused, others achieved, and the result was the organ
ization of the Old Catholics, who received episcopal ordina
tion from the Jansenist Church of Utrecht (ante, p. 557).
Their chief spread has been in Germany, Switzerland, and
Austria, where they number still more than a hundred thou
sand adherents. They have even, though very feebly, reached
the United States. Yet the Old Catholic movement would
seem to have little future. Its departures from Rome, though
562 LOSS OF TEMPORAL SOVEREIGNTY
important, were not vital enough to serve as a long- continuing
basis of a branch of the Christian Church.
Meanwhile the tide of Italian national unity had been rising.
The war carried on jointly by the kingdom of Sardinia, under
Victor Emmanuel II (1849-1878), and France, under Napoleon
III (1852-1870), against Austria, supplemented by Italian en
thusiasm led by Giuseppe Garibaldi (1807-1882), resulted in
the establishment of the kingdom of Italy under Victor Em
manuel in 1861, and the inclusion in it of the greater part of
the old States of the Church. Rome and its vicinity were
preserved to the Pope by the Ultramontane policy of Napoleon
III. On the outbreak of the war between France and Ger
many in 1870, the French troops were withdrawn. On Septem
ber 20, 1870, Victor Emmanuel captured Rome, and the in
habitants of the district voted one hundred and thirty-three
thousand to one thousand five hundred for annexation to Italy.
To the Pope the Italian Government guaranteed the privileges
of a sovereign, and absolute possession of the Vatican, the
Lateran, and Castel Gandolfo. Thus came to an end the States
of the Church, the oldest continuous secular sovereignty then
existing in Europe. Pius IX protested, declared himself a
prisoner, and excommunicated Victor Emmanuel. The papacy
has continued to desire the restoration of its temporal posses
sions; but to a non-Roman this sacrifice seems to have been
an advantage. It removed from the papacy a secular task
which it was ill adapted to meet, and the attempted accom
plishment of which laid it open to well-grounded charges of
maladministration. It gave to the papacy unhindered scope
for the development of its spiritual functions. It is no acci
dent that in the forty-seven years that have elapsed since the
loss of its territorial possessions the papacy has been more in
fluential and has enjoyed the general respect of mankind in
higher measure than at any period since before the Reformation.
Pius IX was succeeded by a statesman Pope, Leo XIII (1878-
1903). He concluded the conflicts between the papacy and the
imperial government of Germany. He urged French Catholics
to support the republic. With Italy he was less successful,
owing to insistence on the restoration of the States of the Church.
He declared Aquinas (ante, p. 270) the standard of Roman in
struction, thus returning to the best period of mediaeval re
ligious thought. He urged the study of the Scriptures. He
SEPARATION OF CHURCH AND STATE 563
opened the treasures of the Vatican to historical scholars.
The relations of labor and capital and the interests of working
men enlisted his attention. He sought the reunion of the
Roman and the Oriental Churches ; but he pronounced Anglican
orders invalid in 1896. In 1878 he restored the Roman Catholic
episcopate in Scotland. A man of scholarly tastes and wide
sympathies, he was far removed from any countenance of
Protestantism, but won deserved admiration for the skill,
wisdom, Christian zeal, and religious earnestness with which
he administered his great office.
Pius X (1903-1914) was, in many ways, a contrast to Leo
XIII. The latter was of noble birth. Pius X was of humble
origin. Leo XIII was of great diplomatic ability and far-
sighted vision. Pius X was a faithful parish priest whose par
ish had become world-wide. He was called to handle two ques
tions of great difficulty. The first had to do with the relations
of church and state in France. In spite of the efforts of Leo
XIII, the majority of French Catholics were regarded as luke
warm toward the republic. Relations had long been growing
strained. In 1901 religious orders not under state control were
forbidden to engage in instruction. The refusal of conform
ity by some was followed in 1903 by the suppression of many
monasteries and nunneries, and the confiscation of their prop
erties. In 1904 President Loubet of France paid a state visit
in Rome to the King of Italy. Pius X, regarding the Italian
sovereign as in wrongful possession of Rome, protested. France
withdrew its ambassador from the papal court, and soon after
broke off all diplomatic intercourse. In December, 1905, the
French Government decreed the separation of church and state.
All governmental aid was withdrawn from Catholics and Protes
tants. All churches and other church property were declared
the possession of the state, to be rented for use by state-respon
sible local associations for worship, preference being given to
those representative of the faith by which the property had
last been employed. Though many French bishops were ready
to form such organizations, Pius X forbade. The result was a
deadlock, which still continues, though the French Government
has allowed worship to go on as before. Catholics and Protes
tants have since had to provide the cost of their services by
voluntary gifts. The adjustment has been difficult; but the
task, which has been successfully accomplished, seems by its
564 MODERNISM
perplexities to have served to arouse the religious interest of
the nation.
The second problem was occasioned by the rise of the Mod
ernists. In spite of growing Ultramontanism, modern histor
ical criticism, Biblical investigation, and scientific conceptions
of growth through development, have found a foothold, though
scanty, in the Roman communion. To some earnest and
thoughtful men some reinterpretation of Catholicism in terms
of the modern intellectual world seemed imperative. Such
were Hermann Schell (1850-1906) in Germany, Alfred Loisy
(1857-) in France, George Tyrrell (1861-1909) in England,
and quite a group in Italy. Modernism was confined to no
country. Against this movement Pius X set his face. By a
"syllabus," and an "encyclica," in 1907, Modernism was con
demned, and stringent measures taken for its repression.
These have apparently been successful, but whether such ten
dencies can be permanently crushed only the future can de
termine. Pius X interested himself in many administrative
reforms with effect.
The present Pope, Benedict XV (1914-), is of scholarly spirit
and peace-loving nature, but the brevity of his pontificate and
the overshadowing interests of the great world war have, as
yet, rendered an estimate of his pontificate difficult.
SECTION XVI. AMERICAN CHRISTIANITY
American Christianity is primarily an importation from the
Old World. As the colonization of America represented many
races of Europe, so the various types of European Christianity
were reproduced on the new continent. Where, as in South
and Central America, the immigration was of a single race,
imposing its civilization on the natives, a single type of Chris
tianity — the Roman Catholic — is dominant to-day, however
extensively its control may have been contested by secularist
influences. Where, as in North America, many stocks have
contributed to the population, though one form of Christianity
was here and there dominant in colonial beginnings, the result
has been great variety and religious freedom, as a consequence
of necessary mutual toleration. America has produced cer
tain indigenous religious types, but they have been relatively
insignificant; but in North America, where contact between
ROMAN MISSIONS IN AMERICA 565
various types has been acute, and where the principle of inde
pendence from state control has been dominant for more than
a century, there had been much modification from European
forms, especially in church government — what may be called
an Americanization.
The conversion of South and Central America was largely
the work of the monastic orders, strongly supported by the
Spanish Government. By 1508 the Franciscans were laboring
in Venezuela. By 1529 they were numerous enough to hold a
provincial synod in Mexico. In 1535 they had constituted
Peru a province. Four years later they had begun work in
Argentina. They were the first to enter Brazil. By 1597 they
had founded Christian communities in what is now part of the
United States — New Mexico. In 1700 they were in Texas.
Their mission period in California was from 1769 to 1843.
The Franciscans found worthy competitors in the Domini
cans. By 1526 they were in Mexico. Soon after they were
laboring in Colombia. In 1541 they were Christian pioneers
in Chile.
Even more extensive was the activity of the Jesuits. From
1549 they developed an extensive work in Brazil. Colombia
soon proved one of their most successful fields. They were in
Peru by 1567, and in Paraguay by 1586. In the country last
named, in 1610, they established their much discussed pater
nally controlled Indian villages (ante, p. 430). The seven
teenth century witnessed their extensive activities in Ecuador,
Bolivia, and Chile. By 1572 they began a great work in Mexico.
No brighter page of missionary sacrifice is to be found than
that written by the Jesuits in Canada, beginning in 1611.
Though aided by other orders, the strongly Roman province of
Quebec is their monument to this day. In 1673 a Jesuit mis
sionary, Jacques Marquette (1637-1675), discovered the Missis
sippi. A series of mission stations through the Mississippi
valley, as far south as Louisiana, followed.
Florida was missionary land for Dominicans, Franciscans,
and Jesuits from 1568, but proved difficult. The flourishing
period of Roman missions there was from 1625 to 1700.
Universities were founded in Mexico City in 1551, and in
Lima in 1557, which are the most venerable institutions of
higher learning in the New World.
The Church of England was introduced into the oldest Eng-
566 VIRGINIA, MARYLAND, THE CAROLINAS
lish colony in what is now the United States — that of Virginia —
at its planting in 1607, and remained established by law till
1776. Though it retained the affections of many of the noblest
of the colonists, even the establishment of William and Mary
College, in 1693, failed to provide an adequate supply of native
clergy. Throughout the colonial period Virginia was dependent
on clerical appointments by the distant bishop of London.
The result was too often the selection of the incompetent and
sometimes of the unworthy, while the parishes which were
bound by law to furnish the minister's support revenged them
selves by a grudging acquiescence. The attempts of the clergy
to collect their dues by law, supported by the home government,
was one of the causes of disaffection leading to the Revolution.
On the whole, Virginia episcopacy, in colonial days, led a
troubled and scantily fruitful existence.
Virginia's northern neighbor, Maryland, the first English
proprietary colony in what is now the United States, was
chartered to Lord Baltimore in 1632. Himself a Roman
Catholic, to secure freedom under the sovereignty of England
for his fellow believers, Baltimore established full religious
toleration. Under these conditions the Protestant Dissenters
in Maryland, by the close of the seventeenth century, outnum
bered the Roman Catholics and Anglicans. In 1691 Maryland
was created a royal colony, and the next year the Church of
England was by law established. During the remainder of
the colonial period its livings were the most valuable of any in
the colonies ; but it suffered from the inefficiency of the clergy,
like Virginia. Quakers, Presbyterians, and Methodists grew
numerous. The establishment practically ended in the tur
moil of the Revolution. A bright spot in the religious history
of these two colonies was the efficient labor of Thomas Bray
(1656-1730), commissary of the bishop of London, who secured
the foundation of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel
in Foreign Parts in 1701 (ante, p. 508).
North and South Carolina both saw the Church of England
legally established till the contests of the Revolution. The
mixed religious character of their population, including Hugue
nots, Scotch-Irish Presbyterians, Baptists, and Quakers, ren
dered this establishment ineffective, though these colonies were
well served, in the eighteenth century, by missionaries of the
society founded by Bray, and Charleston had a distinguished
NEW ENGLAND CONGREGATIONALISM 567
succession of rectors. Georgia was founded on the basis of
toleration for all save Roman Catholics ; but not a little work
was done by the missionaries of the Society for the Propaga
tion of the Gospel, and something has been said of the experi
ences of the Wesleys and of Whitefield (ante, pp. 511, 512).
In general, it may be said that in the southern colonies in the
period preceding the Revolution the condition of religion was
low, and the existence of an establishment did little to improve it.
The settlement of English Separatists and Puritans in New
England, beginning in 1620, and the steps which led to the
erection, between then and 1638, of the Congregational colonies
of Plymouth, Massachusetts, Connecticut, and New Haven
have already been noted (ante, pp. 466, 469). Founded in re
ligious enthusiasm, possessing an educated ministry, these
colonies made provision for its maintenance from their own
sons by the founding of Harvard College in 1636 and of Yale
College in 1701. Nor was effort neglected for the conversion
of the Indians. The work of John Eliot (1604-1690), begun
in 1646, led to the formation, in 1649, of the first missionary
society in England (ante, p. 522). The early Congregational-
ists of New England did not differ theologically from their
Puritan and Presbyterian brethren in Great Britain. For their
first century their controversies were regarding the develop
ments of polity rather than concerning questions of doctrine.
By 1631, in Massachusetts, and speedily in the other adjacent
colonies Congregationalism was established by law. A religious
establishment there continued longer than elsewhere in the
United States, in Connecticut till 1818, and in Massachusetts
till 1834. Dissent from the established order appeared.
There were occasional Baptists in the Massachusetts colony
almost from the beginning, and in spite of governmental re
pression they organized a church in Boston in 1665. By 1705
there was a Baptist Church in Groton, in Connecticut. Quak
ers arrived in Massachusetts in 1656, and within the next five
years four were hanged in Boston. They continued, however,
to increase. Church of England worship was established in
Boston, in 1687, and gained a footing at Stratford, in Connecti
cut, in 1707. Freedom of Protestant worship was granted by
the Massachusetts charter of 1691, and by Connecticut law in
1708, and exemption from taxation for the support of Con
gregational Churches was granted to Baptists, Episcopalians,
568 BAPTISTS AND DUTCH REFORMED
and Quakers, under somewhat onerous conditions, in both
colonies, between 1727 and 1729. At the Yale Commencement
of 1722 the rector, or president, of the college, Timothy Cutler
(1683-1765), and Samuel Johnson (1696-1772), later (1754) to
be the first president of what is now Columbia University in New
York City, with one of the tutors at Yale, declared for epis
copacy. The event was important, not in the college, which
deposed them, but as establishing a native episcopal ministry
in New England, especially in Connecticut, where its labors
were supported by the English Society for the Propagation of
the Gospel in Foreign Parts.
In general it may be said, however, that, though New England
remained a religious land, the zeal of its founders had burned
low by the opening of the eighteenth century, and isolation,
wars with the Indians, and frontier conditions brought their
inevitable provincialism.
A highly individual development in New England was the
settlement of Rhode Island. Providence was begun, in 1636,
by Roger Williams (1604?-! 684?), then under banishment from
Massachusetts and an opponent of coercion in matters of re
ligion. Rhode Island became a refuge for those seeking free
dom of religious expression. In 1639 the first Baptist Church
in America was established, of which Williams was for a short
time a member, spending his later life as a "seeker." In spite
of many internal troubles from an intense individualism, the
broad principles of religious toleration on which Rhode Island
was founded were well and honorably maintained. The
Quakers, in particular, found in it a home.
New York was permanently founded as a Dutch trading
colony in 1624. By 1628 its first Dutch Reformed Church,
the earliest representative of the Presbyterian polity in America,
was formed. New York soon asserted, however, its cosmopoli
tan character. By 1644 the future city included in its inhabi
tants Dutch Reformed, Lutherans, Mennonites, English-
speaking Puritans, and Roman Catholics. From 1652 onward
an attempt was made by the colonial authorities to prevent
any other worship than that of the Reformed Church of Hol
land. The Quakers were specially objects of repression. Dutch
control ceased in 1664, when New York passed to the English,
whose possession was finally confirmed ten years later. The
English governors attempted to construe the Church of Eng-
QUAKERS AND PRESBYTERIANS 569
land as established. The majority of inhabitants, especially
as represented in the legislative assembly, offered successful
opposition. In the foundation of Trinity Church, in 1697, the
Church of England was effectively planted in New York City,
though the Dutch Reformed and French Huguenots were then
even more strongly represented. In 1709 a large German Re
formed immigration from the Palatinate came into the colony.
In 1720 the Dutch Reformed Church received a notable acces
sion in the arrival from Holland of Theodorus Jacobus Freling-
huysen (1691-1747), whose remarkable ministry was exercised
in New Jersey, but was to extend its quickening and organiz
ing influence to New York also.
Of what was to become New Jersey, East Jersey saw the es
tablishment of Congregational settlers from New Haven colony,
at Newark, in 1666, of the Dutch Reformed in the region of
New Brunswick, and of Scotch Presbyterians. West Jersey
received a large Quaker immigration in 1677-1678.
Mention has already been made of the grant of Pennsylvania
to William Penn, in 1681, and its settlement by Quakers in the
following year (ante, p. 480). The Quaker policy of toleration
attracted representatives of other forms of faith. Hence no
other colony presented such a variety of religious bodies as
Pennsylvania. Baptists from Wales and Ireland were soon
more strongly represented than elsewhere in the colonies.
Mennonites from Germany and Holland settled German town,
in 1683. Dunkards and other German bodies soon followed.
The Church of England was planted in Philadelphia in 1695,
but was long feeble. The first half of the eighteenth century
saw a great influx of German Lutherans and German Reformed
(Calvinists). The beginnings of the Moravians have already
been noted (ante, p. 504).
After the Stewart restoration of 1660 a new element, des
tined to be of great economic and political importance, the
Scotch-Irish, came from the Scottish settlements in Ulster.
They were devotedly Presbyterian. They found a missionary
and an organizer in Francis Makemie (?-1708), who labored,
certainly from 1691 onward, from New York to South Carolina.
To his initiative the organization of the first American pres
bytery, that of Philadelphia, in 1705, was due. From 1713
nearly to the American Revolution the Scotch-Irish were pour
ing in like a flood. They settled much of Maine and New
570 THE GREAT AWAKENING
Hampshire in New England, where, however, they were mostly
absorbed by the Congregational Churches. In New York they
constituted a large fraction of the population. Nowhere were
they more strongly represented than in Pennsylvania, and by
1764 were able practically to wrest the political control of the
colony from the Quakers. They sought prevailingly the fron
tier, and to this energetic race the settlement of what is now
West Virginia, western North Carolina, and ultimately Ken
tucky, Tennessee, as well as large sections of South Carolina,
Georgia, and Alabama, was due. By 1717 a synod was formed,
including the presbyteries of New York and New Jersey, Penn
sylvania, Delaware, and Maryland. In general the Scotch-
Irish were long in a period of religious destitution, through lack
of ministers and organized churches.
Religion in America during the period till the second quarter
of the eighteenth century was essentially the propagation of
European bodies. Save in New England, it was relatively
feeble, and there had suffered a serious decline of its original
enthusiasm. No one religious body was dominant in the col
onies as a whole. While particular denominations were in
trenched in particular colonies, no church could become that
of all the colonies. The way was thus made ready for that
religious freedom which was to become the characteristic of
the United States as a nation.
The most far-reaching and transforming event of the eight
eenth-century religious life of America was the revival known
as the Great Awakening. It was not only a tremendous quick
ening of the Christian life, it changed the conceptions of en
trance on that life in a way that profoundly affects the majority
of American churches to this day. In this respect it was the
analogue of Pietism in Germany or Methodism in Great Britain.
It emphasized the conception of a transforming regenerative
change, a " conversion," as the normal method of entrance into
the kingdom of God. It gave general diffusion to the Baptist
or Congregational view of the church as a company of experi
ential Christians. It laid little weight on Christian nurture.
It promoted an ascetic theory of the Christian life.
Some premonitions of the revival were to be seen under the
preaching, in the vicinity of Raritan, New Jersey, of Theodorus
Jacobus Frelinghuysen after 1720 (ante, p. 569). He had come
under Pietistic influences in Holland. Near him, and impressed
THE GREAT AWAKENING 571
by him, was Gilbert Tennent (1703-1764), the young Presby
terian minister of New Brunswick, New Jersey, whose powerful,
though often injudicious, revival preaching began to show large
fruitage in 1728. A remarkable revival began, in 1734, in North
ampton, Massachusetts, under the ministry of Jonathan Ed
wards (1703-1758). But all these manifestations of religious
feeling were local compared with the general interest aroused
by the first Evangelistic tour throughout the English-speaking
colonies in 1739 and 1740 by George Whitefield, then in the
height of his youthful enthusiasm (ante, p. 511). Everywhere
throngs hung upon his words, faintings and outcries attended
his sermons. Hundreds were permanently changed. The spiri
tual condition of many communities was transformed.
Unfortunately the Great Awakening, with all its unquestion
able benefits, brought division in its wake. When Whitefield
himself was denunciatory of those who did not agree with
him as unconverted, it is not surprising that his followers and
imitators were even more censorious and uncharitable. The
Congregationalists of New England were soon divided into
New Lights, who saw in the revivals a work of God, and the
Old Lights, who disliked their method. A similar schism into
Old Side and New Side occurred among the Presbyterians of
the middle colonies. Harvard and Yale were Old Light in sen
timent. Many of the revivalistic ministers of the New Side
party had been trained in the Log College, founded in 1728 by
Gilbert Tennent's father, William Tennent (1673-1746). Some
of these, with much New Light sympathy from New England,
and under the auspices of the synod of New York, founded in
1746 the institution now known as Princeton University. While
the revivals affected American religious ideals profoundly, two
bodies, which had always emphasized Christian nurture, were
relatively unaffected by them, the Lutherans and the Church
of England — the latter proving, in New England, at least, a
home for some of those who disapproved the revival methods.
Intense as was the Great Awakening, and permanent as
was its moulding effect upon American religious conceptions,
its active period was brief. Men's minds were turned from
strenuous interest in religion by a long series of military and
political events of absorbing concern. The struggle begun in
1755, resulting in the conquest of Canada, had scarcely ter
minated in 1763 when it was followed by the controversies
572 JONATHAN EDWARDS
aroused by the Stamp Act, and by increasing friction with the
mother country, resulting in the outbreak of the Revolution
in 1775 ; the Declaration of Independence in 1776 ; the destruc
tive war till 1783 ; and the protracted discussions of the frame
work of the nation which did not terminate till the establish
ment of government under the Constitution in 1789. For
more than a generation men's thoughts were absorbed in these
questions, and religion in America was at low ebb. Many of
the trusted political leaders were influenced by the Deism of
England or France (ante, p. 492). The most significant re
ligious force arising during this period was the planting of
American Methodism, beginning in 1766 (ante, pp. 517-518) —
a sowing destined to a mighty harvest.
Out of the discussions of the Great Awakening there emerged
in New England the most considerable contribution that
eighteenth-century America had to make to theology — in
the work of Jonathan Edwards and his school. Born in a
pastor's home in what is now South Windsor, Connecticut, in
1703, Edwards graduated at Yale in 1720. From 1727 to his
dismissal, after a painful controversy, in 1750, he was pastor
in Northampton, Massachusetts ; then missionary to the Indians
at Stockbridge, in the same Commonwealth, till his removal
to undertake the presidency of Princeton, a few weeks be
fore his death in 1758. A leader in the great revival, his was
also the keenest philosophical intellect that colonial America
produced. A Calvinist, emphasizing the absolute divine sov
ereignty in conversion against all Arminian modifications, in
his Enquiry into . . . Freedom of Will of 1754 he held that
while all men have natural ability to turn to God, they lack
moral ability — that is, the inclination — so to do. This deter
mining inclination is the transforming gift of God ; though its
absence is no excuse for sin. To Edwards's thinking virtue is
love to intelligent being in proportion to the amount of being
each possesses. Hence God, the greatest of all beings, justly
seeks His own glory, while man by the same test must place
the service of God and his fellows before his own advantage.
Sin is, therefore, selfishness, and virtue disinterested benevo
lence.
Edwards's views were developed by his disciples, Joseph
Bellamy (1719-1790), Samuel Hopkins (1721-1803), Timothy
D wight (1752-1817), Edwards's son and namesake, Jonathan
THEOLOGICAL DEVELOPMENT 573
(1745-1801), and Nathanael Emmons (1745-1840). All of
these insisted on a conscious conversion, involving a trans
formation from selfishness to "disinterested benevolence," as
the method of entrance into the kingdom of God. To Hop
kins this "benevolence" was not complete in self-sacrifice un
less it involved a willingness to be damned, should that seem
best to divine wisdom. The younger Jonathan Edwards,
believing that Christ died for all and not for the elect only,
was driven by the rise of Universalism to substitute the Gro-
tian conception of Christ's death as a sacrifice to "general
justice" (ante, p. 456), rather than a penal satisfaction for in
dividual sins. This "governmental" theory of the atonement
largely dominated New England thinking till after the middle
of the nineteenth century. This Edwardean school was
strongly missionary in spirit, and from it most of the early
New England foreign missionaries came.
Meanwhile there developed in eastern Massachusetts, under
the leadership of such men as Charles Chauncy (1705-1787)
and Jonathan Mayhew (1720-1766), both of Boston, partly
in opposition to revival methods, and also through the in
fluence of contemporaneous English Dissent, a " liberal " move
ment of a decidedly Arian tendency, though its separation and
full development as Unitarianism was not to come till the be
ginning of the nineteenth century.
The attainment of American independence thrust upon those
religious fellowships that had heretofore been branches of Euro
pean communions the problem of separate American organiza
tion. In the condition of the new national life this must be
organization independent of the state. As already independent
of their European progenitors, such a task was not laid upon the
Congregationalists or the Presbyterians.
The Roman Catholics were still scantily represented within
the bounds of the United States. They were under the su
perintendence of the vicar apostolic of London. In 1784 the
much-respected John Carroll (1735-1817) of Maryland was ap
pointed prefect apostolic for the United States by Pius VI
(1775-1799). Six years later Carroll was consecrated bishop
of Baltimore. In 1791 the first Roman Catholic synod of the
United States was held in Baltimore. In 1808 Baltimore, under
Carroll, was made the seat of an archbishopric, while bishoprics
were established in New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Bards-
574 THE PROTESTANT EPISCOPAL CHURCH
town (Kentucky). By Carroll's death the foundations of Ro
man Catholicism in the United States had been strongly estab
lished, and the priesthood numbered more than a hundred,
though the immigration which was so enormously to augment
this communion was yet in the future.
No communion in America suffered so severely from the Revo
lution as the Church of England. Its ministry and congrega
tions were largely sympathetic with the mother country, and it
emerged from the struggle in ruins. Its very name seemed un
patriotic, and that of "Protestant Episcopal'7 was adopted by
a conference of clergy and laity of Maryland in November,
1780. Two years later William White (1748-1836), rector of
Christ's Church in Philadelphia, and a hearty supporter of
American independence, sketched out the plan under which
the American Protestant Episcopal Church was essentially to
be organized, in independence of the state and of English
ecclesiastical control, with representative bodies composed not
only of clergy but of laymen. He believed the prospect of
securing an American episcopate remote. In accordance with
White's suggestions, a voluntary convention, representative
of eight states, met in New. York City in October, 1784, and
called the First General Convention to gather in Philadelphia
in September, 1785.
Meanwhile, the Episcopal clergy of Connecticut had held aloof
and had chosen Samuel Seabury (1729-1796) as bishop, and he
had gone to England for ordination in June, 1783. Finding it
impossible to receive consecration from the English episcopate
in the absence of action by Parliament, Seabury procured it at
the hands of the Nonjuror Scottish bishops in Aberdeen in
November, 1784.
The General Convention of 1785 adopted a constitution for
the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States, largely
the work of William White. It also appealed to the English
bishops for ths ordination of bishops for America. Seabury 's
Scottish ordination might be valid, but the derivation of orders
from the parent English body was desired. The local Epis
copal conventions of the several states were asked to name
bishops. The General Convention reconvened in 1786 was able
to report that the English bishops had procured an enabling
act from Parliament, and that William White had been chosen
bishop of Pennsylvania and Samuel Provoost (1742-1815) of
PROTESTANT EPISCOPACY. LUTHERANS 575
New York. On February 4, 1787, they were consecrated by
the archbishop of Canterbury.
Bishop Seabury and Bishops White and Provoost, represent
ing different lines of consecration, looked upon each other at
first with antagonism. Connecticut had not yet been rep
resented in the General Convention ; but these difficulties were
adjusted, and in the General Convention of 1789 all parties
united, the Prayer Book was revised and adapted to American
needs, and the foundation of the American Protestant Epis
copal Church fully laid.
Separation from the mother country made a similar inde
pendent organization for American Methodism imperative.
The result was the ordination by John Wesley in September,
1784, of Thomas Coke, Richard Whatcoat, and Thomas Vasey,
for work in America ; the Conference in Baltimore, the forma
tion of a Methodist Episcopal Church in the United States, and
the ordination of Francis Asbury the same year (ante, pp. 517,
518).
The year 1792 saw the abandonment by the (Dutch) Re
formed Church, and 1793 by the (German) Reformed Church,
of a dependence on Holland which had long been weakening,
but which now ended in complete self-government.
One now very extensive American communion, the Lutheran,
though not directly affected by the Revolutionary struggle to
the degree characteristic of the bodies just mentioned, now de
veloped its organization on American lines. The earlier Ger
man immigration of the eighteenth century was prevailingly
other than Lutheran. By the middle of that century Luther-
anism was pouring in a flood, especially into Pennsylvania,
though of course in numbers far smaller than the great immigra
tion of the nineteenth century. Religiously, the transition was
difficult. The institutions of a state church could not be trans
planted, and little help came from Germany, save from the Piet
ists of Halle. Great disorganization and scarcity of ministers
were the results. Some improvement was effected by Zinzen-
dorf (ante, p. 505) ; but the great organizer of American Luther-
anism was Heinrich Melchior Miihlenberg (1711-1787), who
reached Philadelphia in 1742. Under his leadership the first
Lutheran synod, or ministerium, was formed in Philadelphia
in 1748. Quite as important for the future development of
American Lutheran polity was the constitution prepared by
576 LUTHERANS. UNIVERSALISTS
Miihlenberg for his Philadelphia congregation in 1762, by which
all officers were chosen by the congregation itself. The two es
sential features of American Lutheranism were thus sketched —
Congregational in respect to the local congregation, Presby
terian in respect to the standing of ministers in the synod.
The synodical system spread slowly. The ministerium of New
York was organized in 1786. A third synod was soon after
formed in North Carolina. In 1821 a general synod, intended
to be representative of all local synods, was formed, but only
a portion of the Lutherans supported it, and this willingness of
the rapidly multiplying local synods to group themselves as
they choose has continued till recently characteristic of Am
erican Lutheranism. Steps taken in connection with the four
hundredth anniversary of the Reformation, in 1917, promise
the union of all American Lutheran bodies.
One further religious body that developed during the period
of struggle for national independence was that of the Universal-
ists. Belief in the salvation of all occasionally appeared in
eighteenth-century America as elsewhere as a sporadic specu
lation. The father of organized Universalism was John Mur
ray (1741-1815), who had been touched by Whitefield's preach
ing in his native England, and by the writings of James Relly
(1722?-! 778), who had passed from the status of one of White-
field's preachers to that of an advocate of universal salvation.
It was as a disciple of Relly that Murray came to America in
1770, and began an itinerating ministry, chiefly in New Eng
land. A strict Calvinist, Murray believed that Christ had
made full payment not for the sins of a restricted group of the
elect, but for all men, and immediate blessedness would be
theirs at the judgment, when all unbelief in God's mercy would
vanish. For those who fully believe, the divine promised bless
edness begins now.
A further impulse was given to Universalism when in 1780
Elhanan Winchester (1751-1797), a Baptist minister of Phila
delphia, independently of Murray, adopted Universalist views,
which he advocated with eloquence. Unlike Murray, his gen
eral opinions were Arminian. Salvation is based on the ultimate
free submission of all to God ; but will not be achieved in the
case of the unrepentant till their spirits have been purified by
protracted, but not eternal, suffering. Even more influential
was Hosea Ballou (1771-1852), long a pastor in Boston. Mur-
UNITARIANS 577
ray and Winchester had been Trinitarians. Ballou was an
Arian, and in this Unitarian direction American Universalism
has followed him. The purpose of the atonement was moral—
to set forth God's love to men. Sin brings punishment, here
or hereafter, till men turn from it to God.
By 1790 the Universalists were sufficiently numerous to hold
a convention in Philadelphia. Three years later a New Eng
land convention was organized which in 1803 met in Winches
ter, New Hampshire, and adopted a brief creed which, though
modified in 1900, is the historic basis of American Universalism.
The early converts to Universalism were prevailingly, though
not always, from the humbler walks of life.
Unitarianism, on the other hand, won the allegiance of some
of the oldest Congregational Churches and eminent men of east
ern Massachusetts. The growth of a "liberal" party before
the Revolution has already been noted (ante, p. 573). Theo
logical discussion in that region was overshadowed by the
momentous events of the struggle for independence. In 1785,
however, the proprietors of King's Chapel, the ancient Church
of England place of worship in Boston, excluded from the
Prayer Book all references to the Trinity, thus becoming the
first Unitarian congregation in America. Similar views spread,
and criticism of the doctrine of original sin, of the Calvinistic
theory of predestination, and an insistence on salvation by
character were even more characteristic of the "liberal" move
ment than denial of the Trinity. With the incoming of the re
vival impulse at the close of the eighteenth century, of which
mention will soon be made, and the consequent strengthening
of the conservative element, a cleavage was soon evident be
tween the "liberal" and "orthodox" parties. A struggle be
tween the two over the theology of the Hollis professor of
divinity in Harvard University resulted in 1805 in the vic
tory of the "liberals" by the choice of Henry Ware (1764-1845).
Meanwhile, in 1803, William Ellery Channing (1780-1842)
had begun a greatly respected and widely influential pastorate
in Boston, and was preaching a high Arian Christology.
Increasing division, and attacks by the "orthodox," led in
1815 to the adoption by the "liberals" of the Unitarian name.
A sermon by Channing in 1819 at the installation of Jared
Sparks "(1789-1866) in Baltimore was widely regarded as the
authoritative statement of the party, and gave to Channing
578 THE GREAT REVIVALS
henceforth an unofficial leadership in American Unitarianism.
In 1825 the American Unitarian Association was formed.
Though largely confined to eastern New England, the roll of
Unitarian men of letters, philanthropists, and public servants
is of eminent distinction.
The periods of the Revolutionary contest and of the discus
sions resulting in the adoption of the Constitution of the
United States were epochs of great religious depression. The
last decade of the eighteenth century saw a marvellous trans
formation initiated. Without the aid of any single outstanding
personality, like that of Whitefield in the "Great Awakening,"
a mighty reawakening of religious interest began. Felt in New
England by 1792, within the next four years it -was strongly
manifested in the Middle States, whence it swept through the
South, and by the dawn of the nineteenth century was in 'tri
umphant progress in the new West beyond the Alleghanies.
In Kentucky it was felt with peculiar power. There the " camp-
meeting" began in 1800 ; and there the revival was often accom
panied, as had been the "Great Awakening," by outcries and
bodily manifestations. As a whole, this new revival period was
far less marked than the earlier by these symptoms of over
wrought excitement. Its effects were none the less profound,
and the new religious interest was long continued and trans
forming. Indeed, the revivals may be said to have continued,
with less frequency and diminishing intensity till 1858, as the
predominant feature of American religious life.
Led as was this revival movement, on its human side, by
men who fully shared the Pietistic and Methodist traditions
of the eighteenth century, it emphasized the relation of the
individual soul to God, and regarded a conscious conversion
as the normal entrance into the Christian life. It was dis
posed to view that as scarcely religion for which some account
of a transforming change in feeling could not be given. All
American religious bodies except the Roman Catholics, Luth
erans, Protestant Episcopalians, Quakers, and Unitarians
shared these convictions. Presbyterians and Congregational-
ists, Methodists and Baptists, were in these respects essentially
at one. But the Methodists and Baptists, to whom this type
of piety was "most native, found the largest popular following,
aided by their willingness to use such ministerial instrumentali
ties, whether educated or not, as were available. They speedily
MISSIONS. MINISTERIAL TRAINING 579
reached that numerical leadership which they have since main
tained among American Protestants. The fidelity of Congre-
gationalists andf Presbyterians to the tradition of an educated
ministry made them founders of schools and colleges, but ren
dered ttoeir appeal less widely popular ; but all grew amazingly
in numbers and power.
Under the impulse of the new religious spirit American Chris
tian life blossomed with new activities. The Sunday school,
first introduced from England (ante, p. 522) into Philadelphia
in 1791, now became well-nigh universal. The prayer-meeting,
heretofore only sporadic, became general. Foreign missions,
inaugurated by the Congregationalists in 1810, by the formation
of the American Board, with which the Presbyterians and
(Dutch) Reformed co-operated, were adopted by the Baptists
through the establishment of the General Missionary Conven
tion of the Baptist Denomination in 1814. The Methodists
followed with their Missionary Society in 1819. The Protes
tant Episcopal Church took similar action in 1821. Nor was
the progress of home-missionary effort in the United States
less remarkable. The circuit-rider and the pastor kept pace
with the progress of population westward, and state and na
tional organizations in the larger denominational bodies ener
getically supported the work.
Ministerial training was greatly stimulated by the religious
awakening. A prime purpose in the foundation of Harvard
(1636), Yale (1701), and Princeton (1746) had been pastoral
preparation. The ordinary curriculum had at first been deemed
adequate, but it was supplemented at Harvard by the founda
tion of a professorship of divinity in 1721, and at Yale in 1755.
More popular training throughout the eighteenth century was
instruction in the home of some active pastor. In 1784 the
(Dutch) Reformed Church instituted ministerial training ulti
mately removed to New Brunswick, New Jersey, which has
often been called the oldest American theological seminary.
More like a modern theological seminary was the school estab
lished in Baltimore in 1791 by Bishop John Carroll, with the
aid of French Sulpitians, for training for the Roman Catholic
priesthood. The United Presbyterians were beginning theolog
ical instruction later to find a home in Xenia, Ohio, in 1794.
In 1807 the Moravians established a theological school in Naza
reth, Pennsylvania.
580 THE CUMBERLAND PRESBYTERIANS
The most elaborately equipped theological seminary, and in
many ways the inaugurator of a new era, was that opened by
the Congregationalists in Andover, Massachusetts, in 1808.
Four years later the Presbyterians inaugurated a similar semi
nary at Princeton, New Jersey. In 1815 a Lutheran theological
school was established in Hartwick, New York. The Divinity
School of Harvard University was opened under Unitarian aus
pices the same year. Bangor Theological Seminary, in Maine,
was founded by Congregationalists in 1816. The Baptists in
augurated Hamilton (New York) Theological Seminary in 1819.
Two years later the Presbyterian School in Auburn, New York,
was established, and in 1822 the Congregationalists opened the
Divinity School of Yale University. These institutions for
ministerial training multiplied rapidly, and by 1860 had in
creased to fifty, a number since greatly augmented. The
whole character of pastoral preparation was broadened, deep
ened, and systematized.
Out of these religious awakenings there grew many divisions.
One such of importance was the rise of the Cumberland Pres
byterian Church. The Cumberland region in Tennessee and
Kentucky was powerfully stirred by the revival in 1800.
Churches were rapidly multiplied, and in 1802 the Cumberland
Presbytery was formed. The need of preachers was great, and
the presbytery desired ministerial standing for some earnest
young men who lacked the educational qualifications demanded
by Presbyterianism generally. The revival preaching had pro
duced a conviction that the doctrines that Christ died for the
elect only, and that any portion of the race is reprobate save
by its own personal acts, were hindrances rather than helps.
The Kentucky synod viewed these departures with disfavor,
and in 1806 ordered the Cumberland Presbytery dissolved.
In 1810 the Cumberland Presbytery reconstituted itself as an
independent body. Its growth was rapid. In 1813 a synod
was organized, and in 1816 it took the name Cumberland Pres
byterian Church, though it was soon represented vastly more
widely than the region from which the title was derived.
The older Presbyterians and Congregationalists worked in
harmony in home missions in what have long been the northern
central states under the plan of union formed in 1801 by the
General Association of Connecticut and the Presbyterian
General Assembly, till it was repudiated by the Old School
THE DISCIPLES 581
wing of the Presbyterians in 1837, and by the Congregational-
ists in 1852. In general, however, denominational rivalries
were keen and controversy bitter, especially in the extension
work of the developing West.
Out of an earnest conviction of the evils of these divisions a
movement of much importance grew. Thomas Campbell
(1763-1854) was a minister of the Secession Presbyterian
Church (ante, p. 553) of the north of Ireland, who came to
America in 1807, and began work in western Pennsylvania.
Here his freedom in welcoming Presbyterians of all parties to
communion aroused criticism, and he was disciplined by the
Secession Presbytery of Chartiers. Campbell felt it his duty
to protest against such sectarianism, and to assert as the stand
ard of all Christian discipleship the literal terms of the Bible
alone, as he understood it. Thomas Campbell now broke with
the Secession Presbyterians, but continued to labor in western
Pennsylvania, announcing as his principle: "Where the Scrip
tures speak, we speak ; and where the Scriptures are silent, we
are silent." It was not a new denomination that he planned,
but a union of all Christians on this Biblical basis, without
added tests of creed or ritual. In August, 1809, Thomas Camp
bell organized The Christian Association of Washington —
so-called from the Pennsylvania county of its origin — and for
it he prepared the "Declaration and Address" which has since
been regarded as a fundamental document of what was to be
known as the Disciples movement. The same year Thomas
Campbell's son, Alexander (1786-1866), emigrated to America,
and was soon to outstrip his father in fame as an advocate of
the former's views.
In spite of their deprecation of sectarianism, the Campbells
organized a church in Bush Run, Pennsylvania, in May, 1811.
The Lord's Supper was observed each Sunday from the begin
ning. But doubts now arose as to the Scriptural warrant of
infant baptism. In 1812 the Campbells and a number of their
associates were immersed. A year later the Bush Run church
became a member of the Redstone Association of Baptist
Churches. Points of disagreement with the Baptists developed.
The Campbells disliked the Baptists' strenuous Calvinism.
To the Campbells the Old Testament was far less authoritative
than the New. To the Baptists baptism was a privilege of the
already pardoned sinner; to the Campbells it was a condition
582 ADVENTISTS. MORMONS
of forgiveness. Moreover, the Campbells, without being in
any sense Unitarians, refused to employ other than Scriptural
expressions regarding the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The
result was a withdrawal from the Baptists, which may be said
to have been completed by 1827. From this time onward the
followers of the Campbells were practically a denomination,
known popularly as Disciples of Christ. They are Congrega
tional in polity. Their growth has been remarkable, and has
constituted the Disciples an important factor in American
religious life.
A peculiar development of prophetical interpretation was
that of William Miller (1782-1849), a Baptist farmer of Low
Hampton, New York. From 1831 onward he preached widely,
asserting on the basis of calculations from the book of Daniel
that the second coming and the inauguration of the millennial
reign of Christ would occur in 1843-1844. He won thousands
of followers. In spite of the failure of his prediction, his dis
ciples held a general conference of Adventists, as they styled
themselves, in 1845, and have persisted to the present, some
holding to the observance of the seventh day. Their belief
that the coming of Christ is near, though at a date not deter-
minable, is widely diffused among many who do not bear the
Adventist name.
A remarkable perversion of Christianity is Mormonism,
founded by Joseph Smith (1805-1844), who claimed to have dug
up, near Manchester, New York, in 1827, a volume of gold plates,
the Book of Mormon, supplementary to the Bible, written in
mysterious characters which he was able to translate by means
of a pair of magic spectacles, but the original of which was
removed by angelic agency. In this book Smith is proclaimed
a prophet. The first Mormon Church was organized in 1830,
in Fayette, New York. It was soon largely recruited in the
neighborhood of Kirtland, Ohio. Here Brigham Young (1801-
1877) became a member. In 1838 the Mormon leaders removed
to Missouri, and in 1840 founded Nauvoo, Illinois. In spite
of the monogamy enjoined by the Book of Mormon, Smith
claimed to have received a revelation, in 1843, establishing
polygamy. Popular hostility led to his murder by a mob the
next year. The church now came under the leadership of
Brigham Young, an organizer and leader of the highest ability.
Under him the Mormons marched to Salt Lake, in Utah, and
EFFORTS FOR SOCIAL RIGHTEOUSNESS 583
a community of great material prosperity was inaugurated.
After protracted conflict with the United States Government,
Wilford Woodruff (1807-1898), then head of the Mormon
Church, declared against polygamy in 1890. ^
The Mormons have been indefatigable missionaries, and their
numbers have been largely recruited from Europe. Their
system of economic and social supervision has been remarkable
and has produced a large degree of material prosperity. They
hold that God was revealed as Adam, and that Christ, Mo
hammed, Joseph Smith, and Brigham Young were also manifes
tations of deity. By these divine beings souls are created, for
whom the faithful should provide bodies. At their deaths the
righteous will share in divinity. Salvation is through the
atonement of Christ, by faith, repentance, and baptism by im
mersion; though baptism by proxy is of avail for the dead.
Their numbers are such that the Mormons bid fair long to be
an element in American religious life.
The religious activity of the first half of the nineteenth cen
tury was accompanied by efforts for social righteousness. The
death of Alexander Hamilton by the hand of Aaron Burr, in
1804, led to a wide-spread and largely successful attack by the
religious forces on duelling, in which an extensively circulated
sermon by Lyman Beecher (1775-1863) was of much influence.
Temperance aroused the efforts of the Presbyterian General
Assembly and of the Congregational Associations of Connecti
cut and Massachusetts in 1811. Lyman Beecher's sermons
against drunkenness, of 1813, attracted great attention. The
American Society for the Promotion of Temperance was formed
in 1826. The result was a great and permanent change in
the drinking habits of professed Christians by 1830. Effort
then turned toward a promotion of temperance among those
not actively of the church. The Washingtonian movement of
1840 sought the reformation of drunkards. Prohibition by
legislation was enacted in Maine in 1846. Its history has been
checkered, but legislative prohibition has made great strides
since the opening of the twentieth century throughout the
United States, and has had the constantly increasing support
of the actively Christian elements of American population.
Slavery also aroused the hostility of Christian people, North
and South, from the dawn of the nineteenth century. A great
change came over the Southern attitude soon after 1830, partly
584 AN AGE OF CONTROVERSIES
by reason of the supposedly industrial necessity of the system
and partly through resentment by reason of the injudicious at
tacks of Northern Abolitionists on the character of all slave
holders. The question thenceforth was to be profoundly
divisive, but with ever-increasing sensitiveness of the Northern
religious consciousness to the evils of human bondage.
The fourth and fifth decades of the nineteenth century were
a period of controversy and division. The Presbyterian Church
had been recruited from two main elements — the descendants
of Scotch-Irish parentage and those of New England ancestry.
The latter were inclined to greater doctrinal and administrative
freedom. At the General Assembly of 1837 the Presbyterian
Church was rent into two nearly equal bodies, the " Old School"
and the "New School."
Controversies of nearly equal intensity, though with less
divisive results, turmoiled the Congregationalists of New Eng
land. Hartford Theological Seminary was founded in 1834 to
offset the supposed errors of the Yale Divinity School, then
under the leadership of Nathaniel W. Taylor (1786-1858).
Horace Bushnell (1802-1876), of Hartford, Connecticut, in
fluenced by Samuel Taylor Coleridge (ante, p. 545), attacked the
conception of Christian doctrine as based primarily on demon
stration to the intellect, then almost universal in America,
and would substitute for such logical proof an appeal to the
witness of the religious feeling. BushnelPs most influential pub
lication was his Christian Nurture, of 1847, in which he urged
the quiet unfolding of the Christian nature of the child, un
der appropriate influences, as the normal method of entrance
in the kingdom of God, instead of the struggling conversion
which Pietist and Methodist tradition had considered the only
legitimate experience.
The Protestant Episcopal Church was turmoiled by disputes
between the high-church and Evangelical parties.
The most extensive separations were caused, however, by
the contests anticipatory of or accompanying the Civil War.
Growing antipathy to slavery led to the organization, in 1843,
of the Wesleyan Methodist Church of America on the basis of
no slaveowning membership. The question was thus in the
foreground when the General Conference of the Methodist
Episcopal Church met in 1844, and an immediate struggle arose
over the retention of a slaveholding bishop. Northern and
DIVISIONS OVER SLAVERY 585
Southern sentiment was hopelessly divided. The Conference
adopted a report permitting the division of the church, with
the result that the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, was
constituted, in 1845.
Contemporaneously a similar division separated the Bap
tists of North and South. The Alabama State Convention of
Baptists demanded, in 1844, that the Foreign Mission Board
make no discrimination against slaveholders in missionary ap
pointments. The board declared that it would take no action,
implying approval of slavery. The result was the formation
of the Southern Baptist Convention in 1845 and the cleavage
of the churches.
The rupture of the Old School Presbyterian body and the
formation of the Presbyterian Church, South, did not occur till
1861, after the outbreak of the war between the states.
These divisions, unhappily, still continue, though signs are
abundant of reunion in the not distant future.
The Protestant Episcopal Church was divided only during
the Civil War, and was reunited at its close.
A pleasing illustration of an opposite tendency was the re
union, after much effort, of the Old School and New School
Presbyterian Churches of the North, voted in 1869 and com
pleted in 1870.
The last great revival, nation-wide in its scope, occurred in
1858, though many similar, though more local, movements
have been felt to the present. Though the Pietist conception
of religion has still continued predominant in American Protes
tantism, Christian nurture has won increasing allegiance,
especially among Congregationalists and Presbyterians since
the Civil War, and has greatly favored the growth of the
Protestant Episcopal Church, which has always championed
it.
The Roman Catholic Church grew enormously in the United
States throughout the nineteenth century, chiefly through
immigration from Ireland and southern Germany, and since
1890 from Italy and eastern Europe. These races have been
prolific in their new home. Bitter Protestant opposition was
encountered between 1840 and 1860; but since the date last
named relations between Protestants and Roman Catholics
have been increasingly tolerant. The Roman Church has ac
complished an enormous task of building churches, parochial
586 WOMAN'S WORK
schools, convents, hospitals, and institutions of higher learn
ing through the gifts and sacrifices of a relatively scanty finan
cial ability. National councils have been held in 1852, 1866,
and 1884. Long under the superintendence of the Congregatio
de Propaganda Fide in Rome, Pius X (1903-1914) granted to
the Roman Church in the United States in 1908 the same de
gree of autonomy enjoyed in European lands.
An outstanding feature of American religious life since the
war between the states is the steady increase in the demand
for an educated ministry in those bodies which formerly laid
little stress on training. This demand has been met by con
stantly increasing provision, and the older theological seminaries
have steadily enlarged their facilities by augmented faculties and
extension of the curriculum.
The period has witnessed an ever-enlarging recognition of
the work of women in the Protestant Churches. A Woman's
Board of Foreign Missions was founded among the Congrega-
tionalists in 1868. The Methodist Episcopal Church, North,
followed in 1869 ; the Northern Presbyterians in 1870 ; and the
Protestant Episcopal Church in 1871. Similar organizations
for home and foreign missions are now well-riigh universal in
American Protestantism. Women have long been eligible to
the representative conventions of the Baptist and Congrega
tional Churches. They won the right of election to the Meth
odist Episcopal General Conference in 1900. They have been
ordained to the ministry by Baptists, Congregationalists,
Disciples, Unitarians, and Universalists.
The last half-century, especially the last twenty-five years,
has witnessed a great theological change in American Protes
tantism, the exact extent of which it is difficult to estimate,
so silently and unequally has it come. Certain outstanding
evidences have attracted wide attention. Such were the con
troversies aroused among the Congregationalists by the "pro
gressive orthodoxy" of Andover Theological Seminary between
1885 and 1892. Such was the deposition of Professor Charles
Augustus Briggs (1841-1913) by the Presbyterian General As
sembly in 1893. These tangible evidences have been few.
Yet even in bodies officially bound by confessional statements
of the Reformation age, the characteristic doctrines are pro
claimed with little of their ancient satisfaction. The newer
Biblical criticism, especially of Germany, and the evolutionary
RECENT TENDENCIES 587
view of development, have found large acceptance in many of
the most influential schools of ministerial training, and have
wide following' among the ministry, especially in the northern
and eastern portion of the United States.
Equally marked, during the recent period, but as impossible
of exact estimate, has been the growth of the conviction that
the message of the Gospel is social. Not a rescue by individual
salvation only, but the establishment of a reign of righteousness
among men, has become increasingly the ideal. Christian out
look, without ceasing to be other-worldly, has become this-
worldly also. Emphasis is placed on service in preventative
and reformatory effort. The duty of the church to share in
civic betterment is emphasized. A great enlargement has
come in the conception of the church's mission. Adjustment
has been awkward and has been but partially accomplished,
since the organization of the churches has been adapted to the
older and more limited vision. To find organs for the work of
the new has not been easy. This difficulty has led to a large
relinquishment to secular organizations, manned, indeed, chiefly
by members of the churches and infused with the spirit of
Christian helpfulness, of much social service with which the
church should have a more direct relation. The sense of obli
gation in the churches is undeniably rapidly augmenting. A
patent evidence was seen at the outbreak of the world war, in
1914, when the question was widely asked whether that catas
trophe did not demonstrate the failure of Christianity. The
question implies a vastly altered vision. To the thought of a
century earlier the war would have been but another evidence
of a world lying in wickedness, from which individuals might
be rescued by the Gospel. To those who asked it the Gospel
implied a transforming power for righteousness which ought
to banish war and kindred evils from mankind in this present
world. The same enlargement of conception of the scope of
Christianity is evident on the mission field. The feeling animat
ing early American missionaries was that their task was to save
a few individuals of the millions of hopelessly lost from their
eternal doom. As recently as thirty years ago the proclama
tion of any other conception was widely declared to "cut the
nerve of missions." The aim of missions has not been so much
changed as immensely enlarged. The missionary seeks neces
sarily individual converts, but he strives, as his larger work,
588 CO-OPERATION
to plant Christian civilization, to sweep away hoary supersti
tions and oppressions, and to foster a native Christianity which
may be a transforming force to whole peoples. Never have
gifts to missions been larger or missionary candidates more
numerous than they now are.
An outstanding feature of the existing religious situation
in the United States and Canada is the decline of denomina
tional rivalries, and the increase of co-operation in religious
work. Voluntary associations for co-operate Christian en
deavor have developed remarkably. Conspicuous have been
the Young Men's Christian Association, founded by George
Williams (1821-1905) in London in 1844, and since spread
throughout the world, and its sister society, the Young Women's
Christian Association, organized in England in 1855, and both
peculiarly successful in the United States. They have never
been more useful than during the world war. Less directly
co-operant but uniting in similar aims have been the Young
People's Society of Christian Endeavor, formed by Francis E.
Clark in 1881 ; and the similar Baptist Young People's Union,
the Epworth League, the Luther League, and the Brotherhood
of St. Andrew.
It is from missions that the strongest impulses to co-operation
have come. A powerful force in this direction has been the
Student Volunteer Missionary Movement, launched in 1886.
The manifest impropriety of transferring denominational divi
sions to the mission field has led to large association of similar
groups of Christians into single bodies in China, India, and
Japan. The essential unity of missionary endeavor was mani
fest at the World Missionary Conference, held in Edinburgh
in 1910, the influence of which has been potent. The evils of
religious rivalries led, in the United States, to the establishment
of the Home Missions Council in 1908, composed of represen
tatives of societies engaged in similar work. This has been
followed by the Foreign Missions Conference of North America,
the Council of Women for Home Missions, and the Federation
of Women's Boards of Foreign Missions.
These associations are voluntary. A federation of a more
organic character was created, after considerable preliminary
negotiation, by the formation in 1908 of the Federal Council
of the Churches of Christ in America, composed of official dele
gates from its co-operating churches. Its functions are ad-
TENDENCIES TOWARD UNION 589
visory, not legislative or judicial. Its objects are: "To express
the fellowship and catholic unity of the Christian Church.
To bring the Christian bodies of America into united service
for Christ and the world. To encourage devotional fellowship
and mutual counsel concerning the spiritual life and religious
activities of the churches. To secure a larger combined in
fluence for the churches of Christ in all matters affecting the
moral and social condition of the people, so as to promote the
application of the law of Christ in every relation of human life."
The Federal Council now has the support of thirty denomina
tions, including such important bodies as the Northern Baptists,
Congregationalists, Disciples, Lutherans (under the General
Synod), Methodists, North and South, Presbyterians, North
and South, Protestant Episcopalians, and the (Dutch and Ger
man) Reformed.
A movement even more ambitious in its plans was inaugu
rated by the General Convention of the Protestant Episcopal
Church in the United States in 1910, aiming at an ultimate
world conference on faith and order, which may effect the re
union of Christendom. The object has received the support
of a majority of American Protestant bodies to the extent of
official representation in several preliminary conferences which
have been held, and an American delegation has urged co
operation in Great Britain with success. The world war has
delayed the progress in other countries that was hoped.
In Canada a movement for the organic union of Congrega
tionalists, Methodists^jtftd^ Presbyterians has every prospect
of success.
The long story of the Christian Church is a panorama of
lights and shadows, of achievement and failure, of conquests
and divisions. It has exhibited the divine life marvellously
transforming the lives of men. It has also exhibited those
passions and weaknesses of which human nature is capable.
Its tasks have seemed, in every age, almost insuperable. They
were never greater than at present when confronted by a ma
terialistic interpretation of life, and when the furnace of almost
universal war bids fair to transform the whole fabric of Euro
pean and American civilization. Yet no Christian can survey
what the church has done without confidence in its future.
Its changes may be many, its struggles great. But the good
590 THE FUTURE
hand of God which has led it hitherto will guide it to larger
usefulness in the advancement of the kingdom of its Lord, and
toward the fulfilment of His prediction that if He be lifted up
He would draw all men unto Him.
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS
No attempt is made to do more than indicate what volumes the
reader of this History, especially if unacquainted with any lan
guage besides English, will find most useful.
An encyclopaedia should be at hand. The following are especially
serviceable: The New Schaff-Herzog Encyclopedia of Religious
Knowledge, New York, 1908-12; Encyclopaedia of Religion and
Ethics, Edinburgh and New York, 1908-17 (nine volumes to
"Phrygians" thus far issued); The Catholic Encyclopaedia, New
York, 1907-12; The Encyclopaedia Britannicat eleventh edition,
Cambridge and New York, 1910.
SOURCE BOOKS. — The following source books are indispensable:
Philip Schaff, The Creeds of Christendom, New York, fourth edition,
1905; Joseph Cullen Ayer, Jr., A Source Book for Ancient Church
History, from the Apostolic Age to the Close of the Condliar Period,
New York, 1913; Ernest F. Henderson, Select Historical Documents
of the Middle Ages, London, 1912; James Harvey Robinson, Read
ings in European History, Boston and New York [1904, 1906];
Henry Gee and William John Hardy, Documents Illustrative of
English Church History, London, 1896. The selections in the
volumes just enumerated are in English translation. For those
who can read Latin and French the following work is of high worth:
B. J. Kidd, Documents Illustrative of the Continental Reformation,
Oxford, 1911. All these source books are cited in this history.
To any who can read Latin, Carl Mirbt, Quellen zur Geschichte des
Papsttums, Tubingen and Leipzig, 1901, is invaluable for papal de
velopment.
SOURCES. — The following sources are readily available in Eng
lish translation: J. B. Lightfoot and J. R. Harmer, The Apostolic
Fathers, London, 1898; Kirsopp Lake, The Apostolic Fathers, two
volumes, New York, 1913. The Ante-Nicene Fathers . . . Down
to A. D. 325, ten volumes, New York, 1896. The translations are
of varying excellence. This series is continued in the Nicene and
Post-Nicene Fathers. The First Series, fourteen volumes, New
York, 1886-94, embraces the works of Augustine and Chrysostom.
The Second Series, twelve volumes, New York, 1890-95, contains
591
592 BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS
the whole or selections from the principal writers from Eusebius
to Gregory the Great. The first volume of this Second Series,
Eusebius 's Ecclesiastical History, translated and annotated by A.
C. McGiffert, is indispensable. For those who read Greek and
Latin much ampler sources are provided by J. P. Migne in his two
great series, Patrologia Latina, two hundred and twenty-one vol
umes, Paris, 1844-64, extending to Innocent III; and Patrologia
Grceca, one hundred and sixty-six volumes, Paris, 1857-66. The
texts are often uncritically given. Of highest critical excellence
for the early portion of the field covered by Migne are the Cor
pus scriptorum ecclesiasticorum latinorum, in course of publication
since 1866 by the Vienna Academy; and Die griechischen christ-
lichen Schriftsteller, issued since 1897 by the Prussian Academy.
For the acts of councils the new edition (Paris, 1901-) of J. D.
Mansi, Sacrorum conciliorum nova et amplissima colledio, extending
to the present, may be consulted. Papal letters and decrees may
be found to 1304 in P. Jaffe, Regesta pontificum Romanorum, and
his continuers, Leipzig, 1881-88; Berlin, 1874. The relations of
the papacy and mediaeval empire may be studied in the great col
lection by G. H. Pertz and successive editors, Monumenta Ger-
manioe historica, Hanover, 1826- to the present.
John Huss's The Church is accessible in translation by David
S. Schaff, New York, 1915.
Luther's fundamental writings are translated by H. Wace and
C. A. Buchheim, First Principles of the Reformation, Philadelphia,
1885; enlarged as Luther's Primary Works together with His Shorter
and Larger Catechisms, London, 1896. Luther's Works are in
process of publication in English, vols. I and II., Philadelphia,
1915. Much of Luther's table-talk is accessible in Preserved
Smith and H. P. Gallinger, Conversations with Luther, Boston, 1915.
Lutheran symbolics may be studied in H. E. Jacob, The Book of
Concord: or, The Symbolical Books of the Evangelical Lutheran
Church, two volumes, Philadelphia, 1882-83. For those who read
German and Latin the definitive edition of Luther's writings is the
Werke, in process of publication in Weimar since 1884, of which
more than fifty volumes have been issued.
The writings of Zwingli are accessible in S. M. Jackson, The
Latin Works and Correspondence of Huldreich Zwingli, two volumes,
New York, 1912, 1917.
Most of Calvin's writings are translated into English, as The
Works of John Calvin, fifty-two volumes, Edinburgh, 1843-55.
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS 593
The student will find the Institutes indispensable. They are best
translated by Henry Beveridge, in the series just cited, 3 volumes,
Edinburgh, 1845-46. For those who read Latin and French the
edition of the Strassburg editors, Joannis Calvini Opera, fifty -nine
volumes, Braunschweig, 1863-1900, is a storehouse.
The Works of James Arminius are available in English transla
tion by James Nichols and W. R. Bagnall, three volumes, London,
1825 and 1828, Buffalo, 1853. Hugo Grotius's Defence of the
Catholic Faith Concerning the Satisfaction of Jesus Christ was trans
lated by F. H. Foster, Andover, 1889.
The Racovian Catechism is a prime source for Socinianism.
English translation, London, 1818.
The general student will find much regarding the English Ref
ormation in Henry Gee and W. J. Hardy, Documents Illustrative
of English Church History, London, 1896, already cited under
Source Books; and in Charles Hardwick, A History of the Articles
of Religion, Cambridge, 1859; and in Francis Procter and W. H.
Frere, A New History of the Book of Common Prayer, London and
New York, 1901. Puritan wishes can be studied in W. H. Frere,
Puritan Manifestoes, a Study of the Origin of the Puritan Revolt,
London, 1907; and S. R. Gardiner, Constitutional Documents of the
Puritan Revolution, Oxford, 1899. The aims of Congregationalists
are manifest in Williston Walker, The Creeds and Platforms of Con
gregationalism, New York, 1893; and W. J. McGlothlin, Baptist
Confessions of Faith, Philadelphia, 1911, does a similar service for
the Baptists.
Any who would make a special study of the English Reformation
will need to consult the Letters and Papers, foreign and Domestic,
of the Reign of Henry VIII, twenty -one volumes, London, 1862-
1910; and Calendar of State Papers, Domestic Series, of the Reigns
of Edward VI, Mary, Elizabeth, James I, twelve volumes, London,
1856-72. The writings of the leading English reformers were pub
lished by the Parker Society, Works of the English Reformers, fifty-
four volumes, Cambridge, 1841-54. Many documents of prime
importance may be found in E. Cardwell, Documentary Annals of
the Church of England, two volumes, Oxford, 1844; Gilbert Burnet,
History of the Reformation of the Church of England, Pocock's edi
tion, seven volumes, Oxford, 1865; and John Strype, Complete
Works, twenty-seven volumes, Oxford, 1822-40.
A collection of much importance for Scotland is [William Dun-
lop] A Collection of Confessions of Faith, Catechisms . . . of Public
594 BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS
Authority in the Church of Scotland, two volumes, Edinburgh, 1719-
22. Further study should be made of the Calendar of State Papers
Relating to Scotland (1547-1603), six volumes, Edinburgh, 1898-
1910. The works of Knox and other Scottish Presbyterian lead
ers were published by the Wodrow Society, twenty-four volumes,
London, 1842-. A similar service for the leaders of Scottish epis
copacy was performed by the Spottiswoode Society, sixteen vol
umes, Edinburgh, 1844-.
HISTORIES OF DOCTRINE AND CHRISTIAN THOUGHT. — The fol
lowing brief volumes will constitute a good introduction: Charles
A. Briggs, History of the Study of Theology, two volumes, New York,
1916; H. B. Workman, Christian Thought to the Reformation, New
York, 1911; A. C. McGiffert, Protestant Thought before Kant, New
York, 1911; and E. C. Moore, History of Christian Thought Since
Kant, New York, 1912. A more comprehensive work is George
P. Fisher, History of Christian Doctrine, New York, 1896. A work
of great value reaching to the Reformation, and with the quota
tions in English translation as well as the text, is Reinhold See-
berg, Text-Book of the History of Doctrines, two volumes, Phila
delphia, 1905. For any who can read German the best work (to
the close of the Reformation) is Friedrich Loofs, Leitfaden zum
Studium der Dogmengeschichte, fourth edition, Halle, 1906. For the
advanced student an indispensable work (to the close of the Ref
ormation) is Adolf von Harnack, History of Dogma, English trans
lation, seven volumes, Boston, 1896-1900. An illuminating treat
ment is that of Henry Osborn Taylor, The Mediaeval Mind, two vol
umes, London and New York, 1914. Julius Kostlin, The Theology
of Luther, English translation, two volumes, Philadelphia [1897], is
to be commended. For later development, J. A. Dorner, History of
Protestant Theology, Particularly in Germany, English translation,
two volumes, Edinburgh, 1871. A very useful work is A. C.
McGiffert, The Rise of Modern Religious Ideas, New York, 1915.
The development of the modern situation may be further studied
in Ernst Troeltsch, Protestantism and Progress, New York, 1912;
W. E. H. Lecky, The History of the Rise and Influence of Rational
ism in Europe, London, 1867; Andrew D. White, A History of the
Warfare of Science with Theology, New York, 1896; Leslie Stephen,
History of English Thought in the Eighteenth Century, two volumes,
New York, 1876; John Tulloch, Movements of Religious Thought in
Britain During the Nineteenth Century, New York, 1901. The best
work in its field is Frank H. Foster, A Genetic History of the New
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS 595
England Theology, Chicago, 1907. A work of great suggestiveness
is William James, Varieties of Religious Experience, New York,
1902.
MISSIONS. — The following works will initiate the student into
the story of Christian missions. Adolf von Harnack, The Mission
and Expansion of Christianity in the First Three Centuries, English
translation, two volumes, New York, 1908; George F. Maclear, A
History of Christian Missions During the Middle Ages, London,
1863 ; Gustav Warneck, Outline of the History of Protestant Missions,
English translation, Edinburgh, 1906; Charles H. Robinson, His
tory of Christian Missions, New York, 1915; W. H. P. Faunce,
The Social Aspects of Foreign Missions, New York, 1914.
THE PREPARATION. — Three small volumes will serve as an in
troduction to the Jewish situation. Charles F. Kent, A History
of the Jewish People During the Babylonian, Persian, and Greek
Periods, New York, 1899; James S. Riggs, A History of the Jewish
People During the Maccabean and Roman Periods, New York, 1900;
Shailer Mathews, A History of New Testament Times in Palestine,
London and New York, 1913. The more advanced student will
consult Emil Schiirer, History of the Jewish People in the Time of
Jesus Christ, English translation, five volumes, Edinburgh, 1885-
90, New York, 1896; A. B. Davidson, The Theology of the Old
Testament, New York, 1904; R. H. Charles, The Apocrypha and
Pseudepigrapha of the Old Testament, two volumes, Oxford, 1913.
For the situation outside of Judaism, Wilhelm Windelband, A
History of Philosophy, English translation, New York, 1901;
Eduard Zeller, History of Greek Philosophy, English translation,
two volumes, London, 1881 ; and his Stoics, Epicureans, and Sceptics,
London and New York, 1892; Franz Cumont, Oriental Religions in
Roman Paganism, Chicago, 1911; T. R. Glover, The Conflict of
Religions within the Roman Empire, London, 1909; Samuel Dill,
Roman Society from Nero to Marcus Aurelius, London, 1904.
THE BEGINNINGS. — S. J. Case, The Evolution of Early Christi
anity, Chicago, 1914; Paul Wernle, The Beginnings of Christianity,
English translation, two volumes, New York, 1903-04. The his
tory and present status of investigation regarding the life of Christ
can be learned from Albert Schweitzer, The Quest of the Historical
Jesus, English translation, London, 1910; William Sanday, The
Life of Christ in Recent Research, New York, 1907; S. J. Case, The
Historicity of Jesus, Chicago, 1912. The life of Paul is well treated
in B. W. Bacon, The Story of St. Paul, Boston, 1904. The history
596 BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS
of Pauline investigation is discussed in Albert Schweitzer, Paul and
His Interpreters, English translation, London, 1912; see also H.
A. A. Kennedy, St. Paul and the Mystery Religions, London and
New York [1913].
Excellent general discussions of the apostolic period are A. C.
McGiffert, History of Christianity in the Apostolic Age, second edi
tion, New York, 1910; J. H. Ropes, The Apostolic Age, New York,
1906. A more elaborate treatment is Carl von Weizsacker, The
Apostolic Age of the Christian Church, English translation, two
volumes, London and New York, 1897.
The following works will aid in initiation into the present status
of New Testament discussion : *H. S. Nash, The History of the Higher
Criticism of the New Testament, New York, 1900; Edward C.
Moore, The New Testament in the Christian Church, New York,
1904 ; James Moffatt, Introduction to the Literature of the New Tes
tament, New York, 1911.
THE CHURCH IN THE ROMAN EMPIRE. — The best introductory
work is Louis Duchesne, The Early History of the Christian Church
from Its Foundation to the End of the Fifth Century, English trans
lation, two volumes, New York, 1909, 1912. A good sketch is
that of Robert Rainy, The Ancient Catholic Church, New York,
1902. A larger work on the early period is H. M. Gwatkin, Early
Church History to A. D. 313, two volumes, London, 1909. Indis
pensable is Adolf von Harnack, The Mission and Expansion of
Christianity in the First Three Centuries, second edition, two vol
umes, New York, 1908. An elaborate work for the more advanced
student is Wilhelm Moeller and Hans von Schubert, History of the
Christian Church, First Volume to A. D. 600, English translation,
London and New York, 1892. A readable collection of biographies
is Frederic W. Farrar, Lives of the Fathers, two volumes, New York,
1889. A suggestive volume is J. Estlin Carpenter, Phases of Early
Christianity, New York, 1916.
Early Christian life is admirably treated by Ernst von Dob-
schiitz, Christian Life in the Primitive Church, English translation,
New York, 1904. For the persecutions see H. B. Workman,
Persecution in the Early Church, London, 1906; L. H. Canfield,
The Early Persecutions of the Christians, New York, 1913; W. M.
Ramsay, The Church in the Roman Empire before A. D. 170, Lon
don and New York, 1893.
For the Apostles' Creed see A. C. McGiffert, The Apostles' Creed,
New York, 1902.
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS 597
For the organization of the early church, Edwin Hatch, The
Organization of the Early Christian Churches, London, 1895; Walter
Lowrie, The Church and Its Organization, London and New York,
1904; T. M. Lindsay, The Church and the Ministry in the Early
Centuries, London and New York, 1902; Adolf von Harnack, The
Constitution and Law of the Church in the First Two Centuries,
English translation, London and New York, 1910. For the High
Anglican view see Charles Gore, The Ministry of the Christian
Church, London, 1889; and his Orders and Unity, New York, 1909.
A good guide to the non-canonical literature of early Christianity
is Gustav Kriiger, History of Early Christian Literature in the First
Three Centuries, English translation, London and New York, 1897.
The student who can read German will have recourse to the monu
mental work by Adolf von Harnack, Geschichte der altchristlichen
Litteratur bis Eusebius, three volumes, Leipzig, 1893-1904.
A good brief introduction to Christian archaeology is Walter
Lowrie, Monuments of the Early Church, New York, 1901.
For the church in the empire after the conversion of Constan-
tine the student will find much of value in The Cambridge Mediaeval
History, vol. I, The Christian Roman Empire, New York, 1911.
Good manuals on this period are A. H. Hore, Students' History of
the Greek Church, London and New York, 1902; and W. F. Adeney,
The Greek and Eastern Churches, New York, 1908. Monasticism is
discussed by H. B. Workman, The Evolution of the Monastic Ideal,
London, 1913; and Adolf von Harnack, Monasticism; Its Ideals and
Its History, English translation, New York, 1895. A mine of in
formation for the German reader is Max Heimbucher, Die Orden
und Kongregationen der Katholichen Kirchet two volumes, Pader-
born, 1896-97.
A compact sketch of the councils is that of W. P. DuBose, The
Ecumenical Councils, New York, 1896. Much fuller is K. J.
Hefele, A History of the Christian Councils, English translation,
five volumes, Edinburgh, 1871-96.
Two special studies of unusual value are J. B. Bury, The Life of
St. Patrick and His Place in History, London and New York, 1905 ;
and F. H. Dudden, Gregory the Great: His Place in History and
Thought, two volumes, London, 1905.
THE CHURCH IN THE MIDDLE AGES AND TO THE REFORMATION.
—The earlier portion of this period is well treated in The Cambridge
Mcdicsval History, vol. II, The Rise of the Saracem and the Founda
tion of the Western Empire, New York, 1913. A classic exposition
598 BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS
of the relations of the mediaeval church to the state is James Bryce,
The Holy Roman Empire, new edition, London, 1904. A work of
wealth of information regarding the ecclesiastical life and institu
tions is Andre Lagarde, The Latin Church in the Middle Ages, English
translation, New York, 1915. A classic treatment especially of the
mediaeval papacy is Ferdinand Gregorovius, History of the City of
Rome, English translation, eight volumes, London, 1894-1902.
For the latter part of the period (1049-1517) a fresh and suggestive
treatment is that of D. S. Schaff in continuation of his father,
Philip Schaff 's History of the Christian Church, viz., vol. V, Parts I
and II (each an ample volume), New York, 1907, 1910. A general
history of the period for the advanced student is Wilhelm Moeller,
History of the Christian Church, vol. II, The Middle Ages, English
translation, London, 1893.
Special treatises of value are Gustav Kriiger, The Papacy: the
Idea and Its Exponents, English translation, New York, 1909; and
Paul Sabatier, Life of St. Francis of Assisi, New York, 1894.
Compact volumes of service are M. R. Vincent, The Age of Hil-
debrand, New York, 1896; J. M. Ludlow, The Age of the Crusades,
New York, 1896j R. L. Poole, Illustrations of the History of Me-
diceval Thought, London, 1884.
For English church history the student will find the following
of use: William Hunt, The English Church from Its Foundation to
the Norman Conquest, London and New York, 1899; W. R. W.
Stephens, The English Church from the Norman Conquest to the
Accession of Edward I, London and New York, 1901 ; W. W. Capes,
The English Church in the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries, Lon
don and New York, 1900; G. M. Trevelyan, England in the Age of
Wyclife, London and New York, 1899. For an unsympathetic
treatment see James Gairdner, Lollardy and the Reformation in
England, vol. I, London, 1908.
For Huss, David S. Schaff, John Huss, His Life, Teachings and
Death, After Five Hundred Years, New York, 1915; and Schaff 's
translation of Huss's The Church, New York, 1915.
For Savonarola, P. Villari, Life and Times of Girolamo Savonarola,
English translation, two volumes, New York, 1888.
Most valuable and extensive treatments of the period preceding
the Reformation are given in Mandell Creighton, History of the
Papacy from the Great Schism to the Sack of Rome, six volumes,
London and New York, 1892. From a Roman point of view, Lud-
wig Pastor, History of the Popes from the Close of the Middle Ages,
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS 599
English translation, twelve volumes, London, 1891-1912. Gre-
gorovius, History of the City of Rome, already cited, continues of
great worth for this period. The same may be said of The Cam
bridge Modern History, vol. I, The Renaissance, London and New
York, 1902.
THE REFORMATION. — The student will find the best introduc
tion T. M. Lindsay, A History of the Reformation, two volumes,
New York, 1906, 1907. A succinct treatment is Williston Walker,
The Reformation, New York, 1900. A more elaborate work of
great value by Wilhelm Moeller and Gustav Kawerau is History of
the Christian Church, vol. Ill, Reformation and Counter-Reformation,
English translation, London, 1900. Volumes of great wealth of
detail are : The Cambridge Modern History, London and New York,
1904-06, vol. II, The Reformation; vol. Ill, The Wars of Religion;
vol. IV, The Thirty Years' War. For the Roman point of view
see Johannes Janssen, History of the German People After the Close
of the Middle Ages, English translation, sixteen volumes, London,
1896-1910. A good brief sketch is A. W. Ward, The Counter-
Reformation, London, 1889.
The life of Luther is well told in the following: A. C. McGiffert,
Martin Luther, the Man and His Work, New York, 1911; Preserved
Smith, The Life and Letters of Martin Luther, Boston, 1911; H. E.
Jacobs, Martin Luther, New York, 1898. A study of great value
is H. Boehmer, Luther in the Light of Recent Research, English
translation, New York, 1916. A Roman estimate of Luther is
that of Hartmann Grisar, Luther, English translation, London,
1913.
Other biographies of Reformation leaders are: J. W. Richard,
Philip Melanchthon, New York, 1898; Ephraim Emerton, Desi-
derius Erasmus, New York, 1899 ; S. M. Jackson, Huldreich Zwingli,
New York, 1901; Williston Walker, John Calmn, New York, 1906;
H. Y. Reyburn, John Calmn, His Life, Letters and Work, London
and New York, 1914; H. M. Baird, Theodore Beza, New York, 1899.
For German conditions, Henry C. Vedder, The Reformation in
Germany, New York, 1914. For France, H. M. Baird, History of
the Rise of the Huguenots, second edition, five volumes, New York,
1895-1907. For the Netherlands, P. J. Blok, History of the People
of the Netherlands, English translation, five volumes, New York,
1898-1912; Ruth Putnam, William the Silent, two volumes, New
York, 1895.
For the Anabaptist movement, A. H. Newman, A History of
600 BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS
Anti-P&dobaptism, Philadelphia, 1897; Henry C. Vedder, A Short
History of the Baptists, Philadelphia [1907]; Henry C. Vedder,
Balthasar Hubmaicr, New York, 1903; J. Horsch, Menno Simons,
His Life, Labours and Teaching, Scottdale, Pa., 1916.
For contemporary and later developments in the Greek, Russian,
and other Oriental Churches: A. H. Hore, Student's History of the
Greek Church, London and New York, 1902; W. F. Adeney, The
Greek and Eastern Churches, New York, 1908.
GREAT BRITAIN IN THE REFORMATION AND SINCE. — The English
Reformation is carefully treated by James Gairdner, The English
Church . . . from the Accession of Henry VIII to the Death of
Mary, London and New York, 1902; and by W. H. Frere, The
English Church in the Reigns of Elizabeth and James I, London and
New York, 1904. Learned but unsympathetic is James Gairdner,
Lollardy and the Reformation in England, four volumes, London,
1908-14. The Roman point of view is given by F. A. Gasquet,
The Eve of the Reformation, London, 1905. Two biographies of
high value are those of A. F. Pollard, Henry VIII, London, 1905;
and Thomas Cranmer, New York, 1904. See also R. W. Dixon,
History of the Church of England from the Abolition of the Roman
Jurisdiction, five volumes, London, 1878-92.
An excellent introduction not merely to the Scottish Reformation
but to the whole religious history of Scotland is that of P. Hume
Brown, History of Scotland, three volumes, Cambridge, 1902-09.
A good sketch is D. Hay Fleming, The Scottish Reformation, Lon
don, 1910. For Knox see Henry Cowan, John Knox, New York,
1905.
For the rise and history of Non-Conformity valuable introduc
tions are: Henry W. Clark, History of English Non-Conformity, two
volumes, London, 1911, 1913; Champlin Burrage, The Early
English Dissenters in the Light of Recent Research, two volumes,
Cambridge, 1912; William Pierce, An Historical Introduction to
the Marprelate Tracts, London, 1908; R. W. and A. W. W. Dale,
History of English Congregationalism, London, 1907.
A work presenting the Anglican point of view effectively for the
latter part of Elizabeth's reign and the early years of James I is
Roland G. Usher, The Reconstruction of the English Church, two
volumes, London and New York, 1910. A general sketch from
the same standpoint is W. [H. Hutton, The English Church from
the Accession of Charles I to the Death of Annet London and New
York, 1903.
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS 601
A mine of information regarding religious movements in six
teenth-century England, and especially the Quakers, is Robert
Barclay, The Inner Life of the Religious Societies of the Common
wealth, London, 1879. For Fox see Thomas Hodgkin, The Life of
George Fox, London and New York, 1896; and the extracts from
Fox's Journal, edited by Rufus M. Jones, George Fox, an Autobi
ography, two volumes, Philadelphia, 1903.
For the Methodist movement and its leaders see W. J. Town-
send, H. B. Workman, and George Eayrs, A New History of Method
ism, two volumes, London, 1909. Much relating to the religious
condition of England is to be found in W. E. H. Lecky, History of
England During the Eighteenth Century, eight volumes, London,
1878-90. See also Henry W. Clark, History of English Non-
Conformity, already cited.
For the high-church movement see R. W. Church, The Oxford
Movement, London, 1891; J. H. Overton, The Anglican Revival,
London, 1897; J. H. Newman, Apologia pro vita sua, London, 1864;
J. T. Coleridge, A Memoir of John Keble, Oxford, 1869; H. P.
Liddon, Life of Edward Bouverie Puscy, five volumes, London,
1893-99.
GERMANY. — For Pietism and Rationalism see J. A. Dorner,
History of Protestant Theology, Particularly in Germany, English
translation, two volumes, Edinburgh, 1871; H. E. Guericke, Life
of A. H. Francke, English translation, London, 1837. Moravians,
see John Holmes, History of the Protestant Church of the United
Brethren, two volumes, London, 1825, 1830; A. G. Spangenberg,
The Life of Nicholas, Count Zinzcndorf, English translation, Lon
don, 1838; Augustus C. Thompson, Moravian Missions, New
York, 1895.
For Rationalism, the following work, though unsympathetic, is
of value in the absence of much literature in English: J. F. Hurst,
History of Rationalism Embracing a Survey of the Present State of
Protestant Theology, revised edition, New York, 1901. See also
K. R. Hagenbach, German Rationalism, English translation, Edin
burgh, 1864.
For later developments see F. A. Lichtenberger, History of
German Theology in the Nineteenth Century, English translation,
Edinburgh, 1889; Otto Pfleiderer, The Development of Theology
Since Kant and Its Progress in Great Britain since 1825, London
and New York, 1893; Friedrich Paulsen, Immanuel Kant, His
Life and Doctrine, English translation, New York, 1902; F. D.
602 BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS
E. Schleiermacher, On Religion, English translation, London, 1902;
W. B. Selbie, Schleiermacher: A Critical and Historical Study,
New York, 1913; A. T. Swing, The Theology of Albrecht Ritschl,
New York, 1901; R. Mackintosh, Albrecht Ritschl and His School,
London, 1915.
AMERICA. — The most accessible and, on the whole, the most
valuable outlines of the history of the principal religious denomina
tions in the United States are those in the series entitled American
Church History, thirteen volumes, New York, 1893-97. Vol. XIII
of this series, by L. W. Bacon, A History of American Christianity,
is a compendious sketch of the religious life of the United States.
See also Daniel Dorchester, Christianity in the United States, New
York, 1895.
Denominational histories of value, besides those in the " Ameri
can Church History" series, are: Abel Stevens, History of the Meth
odist Episcopal Church, four volumes, New York, 1864-67; Charles
A. Briggs, American Presbyterianismr Its Origin and Early History,
New York, 1885; S. D. McConnell, History of the American Epis
copal Church, New York, 1890; W. T. Moore, A Comprehensive
History of the Disciples of Christ, New York [1909].
A sketch of the religious life of New England is that of G. L.
Walker, Some Aspects of the Religious Life of New England, Boston,
1897.
A wealth of biographical information regarding American min
isters of many denominations, to the middle of the nineteenth
century, may be found in W. B. Sprague, Annals of the American
Pulpit, nine volumes, New York, 1857-69. Typical American
religious leaders are commemorated by Williston Walker, Ten New
England Leaders, Boston, 1901; A. V. G. Allen, Jonathan Edwards,
Boston, 1889; J. W. Chadwick, William Ellery Channing, Boston,
1903; T. T. Munger, Horace Bushnell, Boston, 1899; J. O. Mur
ray, Francis Wayland, Boston, 1891; George Prentice, Wilbur Fisk,
Boston, 1890; J. W. Chadwick, Theodore Parker, Boston, 1901;
W. W. Newton, Dr. [William A.] Muhlenberg, Boston, 1890;
Lyman Abbott, Henry Ward Beecher, Boston, 1903; A. V. G.
Allen, Phillips Brooks, New York, 1907.
The following among many other volumes may be cited as illus
trative of recent tendencies in American religious thought: W. N.
Clarke, An Outline of Christian Theology, New York, 1898; W. A.
Brown, Christian Theology in Outline, New York, 1906; Henry C.
King, Theology and the Social Consciousness, London and New
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL SUGGESTIONS 603
York, 1902; his Reconstruction in Theology, London and New
York, 1901; hi§ Fundamental Questions, London and New York,
1917; F. G. Peabody, Jesus Christ and the Social Question, London
and New York, 1901 ; his Jesus Christ and the Christian Character,
London and New York, 1905; G. A. Gordon, Through Man to God,
Boston, 1906; Walter Rauschenbusch, Christianity and the Social
Crisis, London and New York, 1907; his Theology for the Social
Gospel, London and New York, 1917; Shailer Mathews, The Gospel
and the Modern Man, London and New York, 1910; and his The
Church and the Changing Order, London and New York, 1913.
The present tendencies to co-operation between American com
munions, especially as illustrated in the Federal Council of the
Churches of Christ are discussed by C. S. Macfarland, The Churches
of Christ in Councilj New York [1917].
INDEX
Abbot, George, archbishop of Canter
bury, 465, 466.
Abelard, schoolman, 264-266; also 267,
273, 275.
Abyssinia, church of, 157, 158.
Acacius, patriarch of Constantinople,
135, 154.
Acolytes, 90, 91.
Act, the Conventicle, 474, 475.
Act, the Five-Mile, 474.
Act, the Test, 475, 547.
Act, the Toleration, 476, 480, 495.
Adaldag, missionary, 236.
Ademar, bishop and Crusader. 240.
Adeodatus, Augustine's son, 176, 178.
Adrian VI, Pope, 351, 354, 422.
Adventists, the. 582.
^thelberht, King of Kent, 198.
Aetius, count of Italy, 132.
Agape, the, 23, 43, 92.
Agatho, Pope, 161.
Agnes, Empress, 221, 225-227.
Agricola, Rudolf, humanist, 327.
Aidan. missionary, 197, 199.
Aigulf, King, 192.
Ailli, Pierre d', theologian, 307, 308,
338, 345.
Ainsworth, Henry. Congregationalist,
463.
Aistulf, King, 203, 204.
Alaric, Visigoth, 131, 184.
Alberic, ruler of Rome, 215.
Albert, count of Mansfeld, 325,
Albert V, duke of Bavaria, 444.
Albert, duke of Prussia, 355, 357.
Albertus Magnus, schoolman, 256, 269.
Albigenses, see Cathari.
Albornoz, cardinal, 296, 297.
Albrecht, archbishop of Mainz, 340,
341.
Albrecht, margrave of Brandenburg,
381.
Alciati, Andrea, jurist, 390.
Alcuin, scholar, 207, 210, 261.
Aleander, Girolamo, nuncio, 346, 347.
Alexander, bishop of Alexandria, 114,
115, 117, 146,
Alexander, Popes, II, 227, 228, 276
(see Anselm of Lucca); III, 251-253,
285, 286; V, 303, 304, 308; VI, 318,
320.
Alexander, the Great, 5, 11, 76.
Alexander Farnese, duke of Parma,
436-440.
Alexander, of Hales, schoolman, 269,
276.
Alexander Severus, Emperor, 85.
Alexandria, school of, 76, 77.
Alexius, Emperors, I, 239, 240; III,
243.
Alfonso IX, King of Leon, 287.
Alfred, the Great, King of England,
211.
Allemand, Louis d', cardinal, 312.
Allen, William, cardinal, 438, 440.
Alogoi, the, 72.
Alva, the duke of, general, 434, 436.
Alypius, 176, 178.
Amadeus, duke of Savoy, see Felix V.
Amalrich, of Bena, mystic radical, 282,
283.
Amboise, conspiracy of, 432.
Ambrose, bishop of Milan. 140, 141;
monasticism. 138; hymns, 167;
preacher, 168; and Augustine, 176,
178; mentioned, 128, 165, 173, 190,
330.
Amsdorf, Nikolaus von, reformer, 340,
349, 380, 442, 443.
Anabaptists (see also Baptists), 366-
373; beliefs, 368, 369; Minister, 374,
375; toleration, 457; Anti-Trini
tarian, 369, 451; see also 433, 437,
453, 461.
Anacletus II, Pope, 247.
Anastasius, Emperor, 135.
Anaxagoras, philosopher, 3.
Andersson, Lars, reformer, 385.
Andover controversy, the, 539, 586.
Andrew, Jakob, theologian, 443.
Andrews, Lancelot, bishop, 465.
Angelico, Fra, painter. 316.
Angels, worship of, 171
Anglo-Catholic movement, the, 547-
549.
Anicetus, bishop of Rome, 64.
Anne, of Cleves, Queen of Henry VIII,
407.
Anne, Queen of Great Britain, 552.
Anno, archbishop of Cologne, 227, 228.
Anselm, bishop of Lucca, 225, 226.
Anselm, theologian and archbishop of
Canterbury, 233, 263, 264; on the
atonement, 263, 264, 456; see also
267, 271, 272, 338.
Ansgar, missionary, 213, 214, 236,
237.
Anthony, monastic founder, 137.
605
606
INDEX
Antioch, the school of, 106, 114, 115,
141, 144, 145, 156.
Antiochus IV, Epiphanes, King, 12.
Antoine, King of Navarre, 432, 433,
435.
Antoninus Pius, Emperor, 49-51.
Apollinaris, bishop of Laodicea, theo
logian, 143, 144, 146, 149.
Apologists, the, 50.
Apostles' Creed, see Creed.
Apostolic Fathers, see Fathers.
Apostolic poverty, see Poverty.
Apostolical succession, see Bishops and
Succession.
Aquinas, Thomas, life, 270; theology,
271-277; mysticism, 279; see also 256,
291, 324, 332, 340, 562.
Arcadius, Emperor, 131, 142.
Archelaus, Jewish ruler, 14.
Architecture, Gothic, 245.
Aresen, Jon, bishop in Iceland, 384.
Arianism, 114-128; missions, 129, 130;
renounced, 134, 191, 192.
Aristides, Apologist, 50.
Aristotle, philosopher, system, 4. 5;
school of Antioch, 145; Leontius, 155;
schoolmen, 267, 269; see also 51, 163,
279, 282, 294, 338, 340, 341, 481, 542.
Arius, theologian, pupil of Lucian, 106;
controversy, 114-119, 144; death,
119.
Arkwright, Richard, inventor, 507.
Aries, Council of, see Council.
Armada, the Great, 439.
Armenia, the Gregorian Church, 158,
159, 312.
Arminianism, 453-457, 464, 466, 468,
516.
Arminius, Jacobus, theologian, 454.
Arndt, Johann, mystic, 496.
Arnold, Gottfried, historian, 501.
Arnold, of Brescia, radical, 247, 248.
Arnold, Thomas, broad-church leader,
545.
Arnulf, Emperor, 215.
Artemon, Christology, 72.
Articles, the Lambeth, 464.
Articles, the Marburg, 370.
Articles, the Schwabach, 371.
Articles, the Thirty-nine, 410, 414, 415,
495.
Asbury, Francis, Methodist, 517, 518,
575.
Ascension, the, 169.
Asclepiodorus, Christology, 72.
Assembly, Westminster, 471, 472.
Astruc, Jean, Biblical critic, 528.
Ataulf, Visigoth, 131.
Athanasius, theologian, bishop of
Alexandria, life, 117-125; motives,
118; monasticism, 138; subordina
tion, 74, 180; see also 143, 144, 146,
158.
Athenagoras, Apologist, 50.
Atonement, the, views of Origen, 82;
Augustine, 181; Anselm, 263, 264;
Abelard, 265; Aquinas, 272; Calvin,
393; Socinians, 453; Grotius, 456;
Edwards, 573.
Attila, conqueror, 132.
Attis, worship of, 10.
Atto, archbishop of Milan, 228.
Augsburg, Confession of, see Confession.
Augsburg, Peace of, see Peace.
August, Elector of Saxony, 443.
Augustine, missionary to England, 198.
Augustine, theologian, early life, 175-
177; Neo-Platonism, 177-179, 5, 107;
conversion, 177, 178; later life, 178;
mysticism, 179; Confessions, 179;
on the Trinity, 179, 180; man's fallen
state, 181, 182; grace, 182; the church
182, 183; sacraments, 183, 184; the
City of God, 184, 207, 212, 229;
Pelagian controversy, 178, 182, 185-
192; purgatory, 193; influence on
Scholasticism, 269; study of, revived,
279, 298, 327; Luther, 337-339; see
also 138, 168, 210, 211, 255, 262, 271,
330, 332, 453, 481, 484, 556, 557.
Augustinus Triumphus, papal advo
cate, 295.
Augustus, Emperor, 8, 15, 206, 217.
Aurelian, Emperor, 84, 87, 104, 129;
decides against Paul of Samosata, 73,
106.
Aurelius, bishop of Carthage, 186,
Authari, King, 192.
Auxentius, bishop of Milan. 140.
Averroes, philosopher, 282.
Awakening, the Great, 511, 570, 571,
578.
Bacon, Sir Francis, philosopher, 483.
Baldwin, Emperor, 243.
Baldwin I, King, Crusader, 240, 241.
Baldwin II, King, Crusader, 241, 243.
Ballou, Hosea, Universalist, 576, 577.
Bancroft, Richard, archbishop of Can
terbury, 462-465.
Baptism, general view, 93-97; primi
tive, 24; foundation of the church,
42, 43, 94; in name of Christ or of
the Trinity, 58, 95; instruction be
fore, 61 ; cleanses previous sins, 68, 95;
necessary for salvation, 94 ; mode of,
96; combined with confirmation, 96;
separated from confirmation, 166, 167;
infant baptism, 95, 96; sponsors, 96;
by whom administered, 96, 97 ; valid,
97; Augustine, 182, 183; Aquinas,
273.
Baptists, see also Anabaptists, English,
367, 368, 465, 466, 472, 477, 478, 519,
550; immersion, 466; in America,
566-570, 579-581, 585, 586, 589;
missions, 523.
Barlow, William, bishop, 414.
INDEX
607
Barnabas, epistle of, 42, 62.
Barnabas, missionary, 27-29.
Baro, Peter, Arminian views, 463.
Barrowe, Henry, Congregationalist,
463.
Bartholomew, massacre of St., 435, 438.
Basil, bishop of Ancyra, 123.
Basil, Emperors, I, 236; II, 236.
Basil, the Great, bishop and theologian,
125-127, 137, 138, 197, 330.
Basilides, Gnostic, 56, 77, 169.
Baur, F. C., historian and New Testa
ment critic, 536, 539, 541, 543.
Baxter, Richard, Puritan, 474.
Bayazid II, Sultan, 318.
Beaton, David, Scottish cardinal, 416.
Beaton, James, archbishop of St. An
drews, 416.
Beatrice, countess of Tuscany, 225, 226,
230.
Becket, Thomas, archbishop of Can
terbury, 286.
Bede, historian, 200, 261.
Beecher, Lyman, preacher and re
former, 583.
Beghards, the, 260.
Beguines, the, 260, 283.
Belisarius, general, 133.
Bellamy, Joseph, New England theo
logian, 572.
Benedict, of Aniane, monastic re
former, 218, 219.
Benedict, of Nursia, monastic re
former, 138; his "Rule," 139, 218,
219, 246.
Benedict, Popes, V, 272; VIII, 218;
IX, 218, 221. 222; X, 226; XI, 291;
XIII, 298, 308, 309; XIV, 555; XV,
564.
Benedictines, 138, 139, 218, 219.
Bengel, Johann Albrecht, Biblical
scholar, 528.
Berengar II, King of Italy, 217.
Berengar, on the Lord's Supper, 262,
263, 265.
Berhta, Queen of Kent, 198.
Berkeley, George, philosopher and
bishop, 489, 507.
Bern, Reformation in, 363, 386.
Bernard, of Clairvaux, life and teach
ings, 246-248, 265; Second Crusade,
242; Luther, 337, 338; see also 249,
266.
Bernhard, of Saxe-Weimar, general,
449.
Berno, abbot of Cluny, 219.
Berquin, Louis de, Protestant mar
tyr, 331, 390.
Bessarion, bishop of Nicaea, cardinal
and humanist, 311, 312, 315.
Beukelssen, Jan, Anabaptist, 375.
Beza, Theodore, reformer, 401, 422,
432.
Biandrata, Giorgio, Unitarian, 451, 452.
Bible, reading of, prohibited, 253.
Biddle, John, Unitarian, 494.
Biel, Gabriel, theologian, 338.
Bilson, Thomas, bishop, Anglican con
troversialist, 462.
Bishops, in Jerusalem, ? 24; collegiate,
45, 46; monarchical, 47; apostolical
succession, 48; the Gnostic struggle.
59-61; Rome, 64; Cyprian, 70, 89;
guardians of the faith, 88; discipline,
88; city and country bishops, 88;
relative rank, 89; choice and ordina
tion, 89, 90; support, 91; metro
politans, 164, 165, 208, 209; incomes,
165; under Charlemagne, 208; arch
bishops, 209, 212; English, 414;
Danish, 384; Swedish, 385; Mora
vian, 502-505; Methodist, 517, 518.
Blaurock, Georg, Anabaptist, 367, 369.
Bobadilla, Nicolas, Jesuit, 425.
Boccaccio, humanist, 314.
Bogomiles, the, 235, 249.
Bogue, David, missions, 523.
Bohemund, of Taranto, Crusader, 240.
Bohler, Peter, Moravian, 512, 514.
Bohme, Jakob, mystic, 451.
Boleslaus I, King, 237.
Boleyn, Anne, Queen, 402, 403, 405.
Bolsec, Jerome Hermes, contest with
Calvin, 398.
Bonaventura, theologian, mystic, 261,
270, 279.
Boniface, count of Africa, 132.
Boniface, missionary bishop, 201-203,
209.
Boniface, Popes, II, 189; VIII, 290-292;
IX, 297.
Booth, William, Salvation Army, 551.
Bora, Katherine von, 355, 356.
Borgia, Cesare, 318.
Borgia, Lucrezia, 318.
Boris, King of Bulgaria, 214.
Boston, Thomas, Scottish divine, 552.
Bothwell, James Hepburn, earl of, 421.
Botticelli, painter, 316.
Bousset, Wilhelm, cited, 31, 544.
Bownde, Nicholas, the Sabbath, 466.
Bradford, William, Congregationalist,
465, 466.
Bray, Guy de, reformer, 433.
Bray, Thomas, Anglican organizer, 508,
566.
Brethren of the Common Life, the, 281,
282.
Brewster, William, Congregationalist,
465, 466.
Briconnet, Guillaume, bishop of Maux,
331, 386, 390.
Briggs, Charles Augustus, Biblical
scholar, 586.
Browne, Robert, Congregationalist,
461, 462.
Bucer, see Butzer.
Bude, Guillaume, scholar, 331, 390.
608
INDEX
Bugenhagen, Johann, reformer, 349,
364, 371, 384.
Bullinger, Heinrich, reformer, 365.
Burghley, William Cecil, Lord, 413.
Burgundians, the, 130-134.
Bushnell, Horace, Congregational theo
logian, 584.
Butler, Joseph, bishop, theologian, 487,
489, 490, 507.
Butzer, Martin, reformer, 341, 363,
372, 376, 377, 386, 392, 394, 396, 410.
Csecilian, bishop of Carthage, 113.
Caesarius, bishop of Aries, 189, 193.
Cajetanus, Thomas Vio, cardinal, 342.
Calixtus, Popes, I, see Kallistos; II, 234;
III, 316-318.
Calvin, John, early life, 389, 390; con
version, 391; the Institutes, 392, 394,
396; theology, 392-394; in Italy, 394,
395; early stay in Geneva, 395;
banished, 396; in Strassburg, 396;
return to Geneva, 396; ecclesiastical
constitution, 396-398; contests, 398,
399; with Bolsec, 398; with Serve tus,
399; victory, 399, 400; academy, 400;
influence, 400; death, 401; see also
246, 366, 376, 411, 415, 417-419, 423,
424, 431.
Calvinism, in Germany, 443, 444, 450.
Cameronians, the, 477, 478.
Campbell, 'Alexander, Disciple, 581, 582.
Campbell, Thomas, Disciple, 581.
Campeggio, Lorenzo, papal legate, 355,
372.
Campion, Edmund, Jesuit martyr, 438.
Cano, Melchior, theologian, 324, 428.
Canon, Marcion's, 57; Muratorian, 62.
Canon law, see Law.
Canstein, K. H. of, Bible society, 500,
521.
Canute, King, 236.
Capito, Wolfgang, reformer, 363.
Caracalla, Emperor, 79, 84, 85.
Caraccioli, Galeazzo, marquis of Vico,
424.
Caraffa, Giovanni Pietro, later Pope
Paul IV, 375, 423, 424, 428.
Cardinals, the, origin of, 222, 223; re
formed by Leo IX, 223; in papal
elections, 227.
Carey, William, missionary, 522, 523.
Caroli, Pierre, controversialist, 395.
Carolina, North and South, colonial
religious conditions, 566.
Carpzov, J. B., theologian, 498, 499.
Carroll, John, archbishop, 573, 574,
579.
Carthusians, the, 404.
Cartwright, Edmund, inventor, 507.
Cartwright, Thomas, Puritan, 459, 460.
Castellio, Sebastien, toleration, 399.
Catechism, the Heidelberg, 443, 455.
Catechism, the Racovian, 452.
Catechism, the Westminster, 472.
Catechumens, 166, 167.
Cathari, the, spread and teachings,
249-251, 255; crusade against, 253-
255, 288; see also 107, 235.
Catherine, of Aragon, Queen of Eng
land, 402, 403, 405.
Catherine de, Medici, Queen of France,
432, 435, 440.
Catherine, St., of Siena, 297, 319.
Catholic, the description, 59.
Catholics, English, under Elizabeth,
438, 439.
Celestine I, Pope, 147, 148.
Celsus, heathen controversialist, 80,
105.
Celtes, Conrad, humanist, 328, 360.
Cerdo, Gnostic, 56.
Chalcedon, Council and creed of, see
Council, Creed.
Chalmers, Thomas, Scottish leader,
554.
Chandieu, Antoine, Calvinist, 431.
Channing, W. E.f Unitarian, 577.
Charlemagne, Emperor, life and work,
205-208; relation to the church, 207-
209; see also 132, 139, 210-212, 216-
218, 234, 285, 326, 346.
Charles, the Bald, Emperor, 210.
Charles, the Bold, duke of Burgundy,
326.
Charles III, duke of Savoy, 388.
Charles IV, Emperor, 302.
Charles V, Emperor, election, 346; at
Worms, 347, 348; at Augsburg, 371-
373; reunion efforts, 376, 396; his
great plan, 375-379; the Interims,
380; failure, 381, 382; death, 382;
see also 322, 324, 326, 329, 343, 351,
356, 392, 402, 403, 407, 411, 423, 427,
430, 433.
Charles, Kings of England, I, policy,
468-470; the civil war, 470-472;
executed, 473; II, restoration and
policy, 473-475, 480.
Charles, Kings of France, V, 307; VII,
313; VIII, 318, 320; IX, 432, 435,
436.
Charles Martel, ruler of the Franks,
160, 200-203, 208.
Charles of Anjou, Naples, 288, 289.
Chauncy, Charles, Liberal, 573.
Chemnitz, Martin, theologian, 443.
Cheyne, T. K., Biblical scholar, 546.
Choiseul, duke of, 557.
Christ, life and teaching, 14-20; see
Christology.
Christian, Kings of Denmark, II, 383-
385; III, 383, 384; IV, 447; VI, 504.
Christmas, celebration of, 169.
Christology, primitive, 23, 24, 35;
Pauline, 36, 37; the synoptics, 37, 38;
John, 38, 39; Hermas, 39, 72; Justin
Martyr, 51, 52; Gnostic, 53-55;
INDEX
609
Marcion, 56, 57; Irenseus, 66; Ter-
tullian, 69, 71, 75, 114; Logos
Christology, see Logos; Monarchians,
72-75; Paul of Samosata, 72, 73;
Sabellius, 73, 74; Hippolytus. 74, 75;
Kallistos, 75; Novatian, 75-76;
Clement of Alexandria, 78; Origen,
81, 82; €he Arian controversy, 114-
128; the great Christological con
troversies, 143-161; Apollinaris, 144;
school of Antioch, 144, 145; Nes-
torius, 145, 146; Cyril, 146; "Mother
of God," 146-148; Eutyches, 150;
Chalcedon, 151, 152; Monophysites,
153; Leontius, 155; Augustine, 179-
181; Elipandus and Felix, 207;
Paulician, 235; Cathari, 249, 250;
Eckhart, 280; Servetus, 399; Socin-
ian, 452, 453; Moravian, 505, 506;
Hegelian, 535; Ritschlian, 543.
Chrodegang, bishop of Metz, 209.
Chrysippus, Stoic philosopher, 6.
Chrysoloras, Manuel, Greek scholar
ship. 315.
, Chry_sijsJtoin7> career 'and services, 141,
142; see also 146, 169, 188, 330.
Church, the, early use of name, 22, 23 ;
by Paul, 32; early conceptions, 42,
43; primitive organization, 23; char
ismatic leaders, 44; development of
officers, 45-48; the name "Catholic,"
59; the Catholic Church, 59-63;
Cyprian on, 70, 71; organization in
the third century, 87-91; of whom
composed, 102; experiential Chris
tians, 102; an agency for salvation,
103; Constantino brings freedom,
108, 112; property, 165; States of
the church, 204; Prankish church,
208, 209; Augustine on, 182, 183;
Marsilius of Padua on, 294; Wyclif
on, 299, 300; Huss on, 303; Prierio
on, 342; Luther on, 351, 352; Cal
vin on, 394; Lutheran, 357, 358, 371;
Anabaptist, 368; Congregational,
461.
Church, the Catholic Apostolic, 550.
Church, the Jansenist, 557.
Church of England, in American col
onies, 565-569; organized as the
Protestant Episcopal and bishops
secured, 574, 575; divisions, 584, 585;
growth, 585; proposed world confer
ence, 589.
Cid, the, 239.
Cimabue, painter, 316.
Cistercians, the, 245, 246.
Clark, Francis E., Christian Endeavor,
588.
Clarke, Samuel, Arian, 494.
Claudius, Emperor, 26.
Claudius Gothicus, Emperor, 129.
Cleanthes, Stoic philosopher, 6, 7.
Clemanges, Nicholas of, 307.
Clemens, Flavius, consul, 33.
Clement, of Alexandria, theologian,
life and teaching, 77-79, 83.
Clement, of Rome, Apostolic Father,
35, 36, 42, 46, 48, 61, 63, 89.
Clement, Popes, II, 222; III, Counter-
Pope, 231, 232, sec Wibert; IV, 289;
V, 284, 291, 292, 295; VI, 294 (VII,
Avignon, 297, 298); VII, 354-357,
372, 375, 402, 403, 422; XIV, 558.
Clement, Second, sermon, 42, 102.
Cleomenes, Christology, 73.
Clerc, Jean le, Biblical scholar, 528.
Clergy, distinguished from laity, 89;
major and minor orders, 90, 91 ; legal
exemptions, 112.
Clerical celibacy and marriage, 104,
162, 165, 166, 213, 232, 547.
Clovis, Frankish King,' 133, 134, 200.
Cluny, monastery, founded, 219; aims,
219-221.
Coccejus, Johann, theologian, 472.
Coelestius, Pelagian, 186, 187.
Coke, Thomas, Methodist, 517, 518,
575.
C.olenso, J. W., bishop, 546.
Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, philosopher,
545, 584.
Colet, John, humanist, 315, 329, 331,
401.
Coligny, Gaspard de, Huguenot, 432,
433, 435.
Collins, Anthony, Deist, 487.
Colloquy, the Marburg, 370.
Colman, British bishop, 199.
Colonna, Sciarra, adventurer, 291.
Columba, missionary to Scotland, 196.
Columbanus, missionary to the Conti
nent, 197.
Comgall, Irish founder, 197.
Commodus, Emperor, 49, 84, 85.
Compton, Henry, bishop of London,
508.
Concordats, papal, of Worms, 234,
285; with Ferdinand and Isabella,
322; with Francis I, 319, 321; with
Napoleon, 558, 559.
Conde, Louis, prince of, 432, 433.
Confession, public, 100, 101; private,
197, 208, 352; required, 275, 288.
Confession, the Augsburg, 371, 373,
383, 386, 444, 505.
Confession, the Belgic, 433, 456.
Confession, the Westminster, 471, 472,
478.
Confirmation, development of , 166, 167.
Congregationalists, the, origin and
principles, 460-463; emigration to
Holland and America, 465, 466, 469;
see also for England, 472, 473, 477,
495, 519, 523, 550; in America, 567,
568, 570, 579, 580, 589.
Conrad, Kings and Emperors, I, 216;
II, 218, 221; III, 242; IV, 288, 289.
610
INDEX
Conrad, of Gelnhausen, conciliar
theory, 307.
Conrad, of Waldhausen, Bohemian
preacher, 302.
Conradin, executed, 289.
Constans, Emperors, I, 119-121; II,
160, 161.
Constantino, donation of, 204, 205,
212, 315.
Constantino I, Emperor, a Christian,
108, 110; struggle, 109-111; the
Edict of Milan, 111; policy toward
the church, 112, 113, 165, 170, 171;
Donatists, 113, 114; Arians, 114-119;
baptism, 95, 119; death, 119; see also
10, 120, 128, 129, 136, 222, 237.
Constantino, Emperors, II, 119; IV,
161; V, 162, 235; VI, 163.
Constantinople, foundation of, 112;
captured by Crusaders, 243, 267,
268; by Turks, 285, 312, 315.
Constantius Chlorus, 108, 109.
Constantius, Emperor, 119-125.
Contarini, Gasparo, cardinal, 375, 376,
423-425.
Cook, James, discoverer, 522.
Coornhert, Dirck, Dutch scholar, 454.
Cop, Guillaume, humanist, 390.
Cop, Nicolas, friend of Calvin, 391.
Copernicus, Nicolaus, astronomer, 483.
Cordier, Mathurin, scholar, 389.
Cornelius, bishop of Rome, 102.
Cotton, John, Congregationalist, 469.
Council, of Basel, 305, 310-312, 316,
327.
Council, of Chalcedon (451) (Fourth
General), 135, 149, 151-153, 157, 159,
171.
Council, of Constance, 308-311; and
Huss, 304, 305; see also 313, 317, 327,
343.
Council, of Constantinople (381) (Sec
ond General), 127, 144.
Council, of Constantinople (553) (Fifth
General), 83, 157, 161.
Council, of Constantinople (680-681)
(Sixth General), 161, 162.
Council, of Elvira, 105.
Council, of Ephesus (431) (Third Gen
eral), 148, 149, 171, 188.
Council, of Ephesus (449), the "Synod
of Robbers," 150, 151.
Council, of Ferrara and Florence, 311,
312, 315.
Council, Fourth Lateran, 255; confes
sion required, 275, 288; transub-
stantiation, 263, 274, 288.
Council, of Nicaea (325) (First General),
115-117; see also 76, 135, 164.
Council, of Nicsea (787) (Seventh Gen
eral), 163, 172, 207.
Council, of Pisa, 303, 307, 308.
Council, of Sardica, 121, 135.
Council, of Toledo, 134, 180.
Council, of Trent, 378, 380, 381, 427.
428.
Council, the conciliar theory, 294, 307-
311.
Council, Third Lateran, 251.
Council, Vatican, 561.
Council, Vienne, 284.
Counsels, of Perfection, see Superero
gation.
Counter-Reformation, the, antece
dents, 321, 322; course, 422-430; see
also 355, 434, 444-446, 555.
Courtenay, William, bishop of London,
299.
Covenanters, the, 470,~471, 477, 478.
Coverdale, Miles, bishop and trans
lator, 406, 414.
Cowper, William, poet, 520.
Cranmer, Thomas, archbishop of Can
terbury, 403, 405, 406, 409-412.
.Creed, the Apostles', 61, 76.
Screed, of Chalcedon, 151-153; see also
153-157, 271.
, Creed, the Nicene, 116, 128.
Creed, Nicene-Constantinopolitan, 128,
151, 208.
Cromwell, Oliver, protector, 472, 473.
Cromwell, Richard, protector, 473.
Cromwell, Thomas, Henry VIII 's
agent, 404, 406, 407.
Crusades, the, 238-245; First, 239-241;
Kingdom of Jerusalem, 241, 242;
military orders, 241, 242; Second,
242, 247, 249; Third, 243; Fourth,
243, 288; Childrens', 244; later ef
forts, 244; results, 244, 245.
Cues, Nicholas of, scholar, 205, 327.
Cumberland Presbyterian Church, the,
580.
Cutler, Timothy, Episcopalian, 568.
Cybele, worship of, 10.
Cyprian, bishop of Carthage, life and
teachings, 70, 71; on baptism, 95, 97;
on the Lord's Supper, 99 ; see also 73,
87, 90-92, 101, 173, 175, 193.
Cyril, bishop of Jerusalem, 128.
Cyril, missionary, 214.
Cyril, theologian, bishop of Alexan
dria, 146-150, 153; theology, 154-
157, 171; see also 163, 167, 168, 172,
330.
Damasus, Popes, I, 127, 174; II, 222.
Dante Alighieri, poet, 277, 293.
Darby, John Nelson, Plymouth Breth
ren, 551.
Darnley, Henry Stewart, Lord, 420,
421.
Darwin, Charles Robert, scientist, 552.
Davenport, John, Congregationalist,
469.
David, Christian, Moravian, 503, 504.
Deaconesses, 91.
Deacons, early, 23, 45-47, 90.
INDEX
611
Dead, prayers for, 93.
Decius, Emperor, persecution under,
86, 101, 129.
Decretals, the Pseudo-Isidorian, 212,
213.
Deism, 487-492; see also 524-526; in
America, 572.
Demetrius, bishop of Alexandria, 79.
Democritus, 5.
Denk, Johann, Anabaptist Unitarian,
369, 451, 494.
Denmark, Reformation in, 382-384.
Descartes, Ren6, philosopher, 483-485.
Desiderius, Lombard King, 205.
Deusdedit, cardinal, 229.
Dictatus, papal claims, 229.
Didache, see Teaching.
Diego, bishop of Osma, 255.
Diocletian, Emperor, career and char
acter, 108, 109; persecution, 87, 102,
109, 113; see also 84, 129.
Diodorus, of Tarsus, theologian, 141,
144, 145.
Diognetus, the Epistle to, 42, 50.
Dionysius, bishop of Alexandria, 105.
Dionysius, bishop of Rome, 76.
Dionysius, writings, see Pseudo-Dio-
nysius.
Dioscurus, bishop of Alexandria, 149-
151, 153.
Disciples of Christ, the, 581, 582, 586,
589.
Discipline, the secret, 92, 167.
Dissenters, English, 476, 477, 550.
Dober, Leonhard, Moravian mission
ary, 503, 504.
Dollinger, J. J. I. von, 561.
Dominic, monastic founder, 255, 256,
424.
Dominicans, the, 254-256, 259, 260,
335, 336, 341; in America, 565.
Domitian, Emperor, 34.
Domitilla, Flavia, 33.
Donatello, sculptor, 316.
Donation of Constantino, see Constan
tino.
Donattsts, the, 113-115, 128, 178, 183.
Donatus, the Great, 113.
Dorner, J. A., theologian, 538, 539.
Drake, Sir Francis, 439.
Driver, S. R., Biblical scholar, 546.
Dudley, Guilford, English conspirator,
411.
Dwight, Timothy, New England theo
logian, 572.
Easter, controversy, 64, 65; Roman
date approved, 113, 117; see also 93,
169, 199.
Ebionitas, the, 39.
Eck, Johann Maier, of, Roman cham
pion, 341, 343, 344, 346, 364, 366,
372, 376.
Eckhart, mystic, 256, 280-282.
Edict of Milan, the, 111, 112.
Edict of Nantes, the, 441, 556.
Edict of Restitution, the, 447, 449, 450.
Edward, Kings of England, I, 244, 290;
III, 298; VI, 408-411, 414, 416, 457.
Edwards, Jonathan, theologian, 571,
572.
Edwards, Jonathan, Jr., theologian,
572, 573.
Edwin, King, 198, 199.
Egmont, count of, 434.
Egypt, Coptic Church of, 157, 158.
Eichhorn, J. G., Biblical critic, 528.
Einarsen, Gisser, bishop, in Iceland,
384.
Einhard, scholar, 207.
Elagabalus, Emperor, 85.
Eliot, John, missionary, 522, 567.
Elipandus, bishop of Toledo, 207.
Elizabeth, Queen of England, religious
settlement, 413-415; deposed by the
Pope, 434, 438; treatment of Cath
olics, 437; plots and Armada, 438,
439; religious policy, 457, 458; the
Puritans, 458-464; see also 403, 417,
420, 422, 471, 494.
Elizabeth, St., 260.
Embury, Philip, Methodist, 517.
Emlyn, Thomas, Unitarian, 494.
Emmanuel Philibert, duke of Savoy,
400.
Emmons, Nathanael, theologian, 573.
Emperor- worship, see Worship.
Empire, Holy Roman, inaugurated,
217.
Engelbrektsson. Olaf, bishop, 384.
Ennius, Roman poet, 6.
Ennodius, bishop of Pavia, 135.
Epicureanism, see Epicurus.
Epicurus, philosopher, 5-7.
Epigonus, Christology, 73.
Epiphanius, bishop of Salamis, 128.
Episcopius, Simon, Arminian, 454.
Erasmus, Desiderius, humanist, 329,
330; Greek Testament, 324, 330; the
Fathers, 330; theology, 330; quarrel
with Luther, 352, 353, 356; see also
349, 360, 391, 401.
Ernesti, J. A., Biblical scholar, 528.
Erskine, Ebenezer, Scottish leader, 553.
Estoile, Pierre de 1', jurist, 390.
Eucharist, see Lord's Supper.
Eudoxia, Empress, 142, 147.
Eugene, Popes, III, 247; IV, 310-312,
316, 317.
Euhemerus, teaching, 6.
Eusebius, bishop of Caesarea, historian,
116, 174.
Eusebius, bishop of Dorylseum, 150.
Eusebius, bishop of Nicomedia, Arian
leader, 115-120, 130.
Eusebius, bishop of Vercelli, 138.
Eustace, Crusader, 240.
Eustathius, bishop of Antioch, 118.
612
INDEX
Eutyches, controversialist, 150, 153,
154.
Evangelicals, the English, 519-523,
544, 546.
Evolution, 552.
Exorcists, 90, 91.
Fabian, bishop of Rome, martyr, 86,
90, 101.
Farel, Guillaume, reformer, 331, 386-
389, 391, 395, 396.
Farrar, F. W., broad-church, 546.
Fathers, the Apostolic, 42, 53.
Faustus, bishop of Riez, 189.
Faustus, Manichaean, 176.
Federal Council of Churches, Amer
ican, 588, 589.
Felix, bishop of Urgel, 207.
Felix, Popes, III, 135; V (Counter-
Pope), 312.
Fell, Margaret, Quaker, 479.
Ferdinand, Emperors, I (brother of
Charles V), 355, 358, 381; II, 446-
448, 450; III, 450.
Ferdinand, Spanish Kings, I of Castile,
239; the "Catholic" of Aragon, 283,
318, 322-324, 326, 402; see Isa
bella.
Feudalism, influence of, 210.
Fichte, J. G., philosopher, 534, 545.
Ficino, Marsilio, philosopher, 315.
Field, John, Puritan, 460.
Filioque, clause, the, 208, 213, 312
Finian, of Clonard, Irish monk, 196.
Firmilian, bishop of Caesarea, 97.
Firmin, Thomas, Unitarian, 494.
Fisher, John, bishop of Rochester, 401,
404,
Fitz, Richard, Congregationalist, 461.
Flacius, Matthias (Illyricus), Lutheran
historian, 380, 442.
Flavian, patriarch of Constantinople,
149-151.
Fletcher, John William, of Madeley,
516.
Forge, Estienne de la, Protestant mar
tyr, 392.
Forgiveness, see Sins.
Formosus, Pope, 215.
Formula of Concord, the Lutheran, 443,
444.
Fox, George, Quaker, 478-480.
Francis, Kings of France, I, 319, 320,
343, 354, 356, 376, 390-392, 407, 416;
,11, 409, 413, 418, 419, 431, 432.
Francis II, Emperor, 559.
Francis, of Assisi, 255, 257-260, 424.
Franciscans, the, 258-261; the Ter-
tiaries, 260; divisions, 260, 261; in
America, 565.
Francke, August Hermann, Pietist,
498-502.
Franklin, Benjamin, 492.
Franks, the, conversion of, 133, 134,
136; and the papacy, 191, 195, 200-
208; see also 130, 131.
Frederick, Electors Palatine, III, 443;
IV, 445; V (King of Bohemia), 446,
450.
Frederick, Emperors, I (Barbarossa) ,
243, 248, 285, 286; II, 244, 269, 287,
288; III, 325.
Frederick, Kings of Denmark, I, 383;
IV, 500.
Frederick, Kings of Prussia, I, 499; II
(the Great), 492, 526.
Frederick, of Austria, 280, 293.
Frederick, of Lorraine, Pope Stephen,
IX, 224.
Frederick, the Wise, Elector of Saxony,
333, 338, 342, 343, 347, 348, 350, 355.
Frederick William, the "Great Elec
tor," 450.
Frederick William I, King of Prussia,
525.
Frelinghuysen, T. J., American re
vivals, 569, 570.
Frith, John, Protestant martyr, 406.
Fritigern, Visigoth, 130.
Froment, Antoine, reformer, 388.
Froude, R. H., Anglo-Catholic, 547,
548.
Fructuosus, martyr, 87.
Frumentius, missionary, 158.
Furbity, Guy, Roman champion, 388.
Gaiseric, Vandal chief, 132.
Galerius, Emperor, 108-110.
Galileo Galilei, scientist, 483.
Galle, Peter, Roman champion, 385.
Gallienus, Emperor, 87, 104.
Gallus, Emperor, 86.
Gallus, missionary, 197.
Gamaliel, 26.
Garibaldi, Giuseppe, 562.
Gaunilo, reply to Anselm, 263.
Gelasius, Pope, 135.
Geneva, before Calvin, 387-389; Cal
vin's work in, 395-400.
Gentile, Giovanni, radical, 451.
George, bishop of Laodicea, 123.
George, duke of Saxony, 374, 377.
George, of Brandenburg-Ansbach, 355,
359, 371.
Georgia, colonial religious conditions,
567.
Gerhard, Johann, theologian, 444.
Gerhard, of Brogne, monastic reformer,
220.
Gerhardt, Paul, hymn- writer, 451.
German "Reformed" Churches, 444.
German Theology, the, 281.
Germanus, bishop of Auxerre, 195.
Gersdorff, Katherine von, 502.
Gerson, Jean de, theologian, 307, 308.
Gibbon, Edward, historian, 493.
Gillespie, Thomas, Scottish leader, 553.
Giotto, painter, 316.
INDEX
613
Gnosticism, causes, 39; teaching, 53-
56; Catholic reply, 60-64; a "Chris
tian Gnosticism," 77, 78; also 235.
God, "Friends of," 281.
Godfrey, archbishop of Milan, 228.
Godfrey, of Bouillon, Crusader, 240,
241.
Godfrey, of Lorraine, count of Tuscany,
225, 226.
Goethe, J. W. von, poet, 527, 530, 532.
Gomarus, Franz, theologian, 454, 456.
Gordian, Emperor, 85.
Gospels, written, 34, 35, 60; as "Scrip
ture," 61, 62, 67; Baur on the, 536,
537.
Gottschalk, monk, 211.
Grace, Tertullian on, 68, 69; Augustine,
182; Aquinas, 272-274; Calvin, 393.
Granvella, cardinal, statesman, 433,
434.
Gratian, Canonist, 292.
Gratian, Emperor, 127, 128.
Gravitation, 483, 552.
Grebel, Conrad, Anabaptist, 366.
Greenwood, John, Congregationalist,
463, 466.
Gregorian Church, see Armenia.
Gregory, bishop of Alexandria, 120,
121.
Gregory, of Nazianzus, preacher, theo
logian, 125-127, 146. 167, 169, 174.
Gregory, of Nyssa, theologian, 125-
127, 168.
Gregory, Popes, I (the Great), 190-193;
papal claims, 191 ; conversion of Eng
land, 192, 198; theology, 192, 193;
the Franks, 191, 200; see also 157,
212, 222, 262; II, 201, 212; III. 162,
201-203; V, 217; VI, 221, 223; VII,
see Hildebrand; IX, 244, 254, 258,
259, 288. 292; X, 290; XI, 297-299;
XII, 298, 303, 308, 309; XV, 430.
Gregory, the "Illuminator," 158.
Grey, Lady Jane, 411.
Gribaldi, Matteo, radical, 451.
Grindal, Edmund, archbishop of Can
terbury, 460, 462.
Groot, Gerhard, mystic, 281.
Grotius, Hugo, publicist, theologian,
455-457, 486, 573.
Guido, of Spoleto, 215.
Guise, Charles, cardinal of Lorraine,
431, 432.
Guise, Francis, duke of, 432, 433
435.
Guise, Mary of Lorraine, regent of
Scotland, 416-418.
Gustavus Adolphus, King of Sweden,
447-449.
Hadrian, Emperor, 25, 49, 50, 73.
Hadrian IV, pope, 248.
Haetzer, Ludwig, Anabaptist Unita
rian, 369, 451, 494.
Hakon I, King of Norway, 236.
Hallet, Joseph, Arian, 494.
Hamilton, Alexander, 583.
Hamilton, Patrick, burned, 416.
Harding, Stephen, Cistercian, 246.
Hargreaves, James, inventor, 507.
Harnack, Adolf von, historian, cited,
19, 46, 170, 543.
Harold, King of Denmark, 236.
Harris, Howell, Revivalist, 513.
Harrison, Robert, Congregationalist,
461.
Haweis, Thomas, Missions, 523.
Hegel, G. W. F., philosopher, 534-536,
539.
Hegius, Alexander, humanist, 327:
Heinrich, duke of Saxony, 379.
Heinrich, of Langenstein, conciliar
theory, 307.
Heinrich XXIX, of Reuss, 502.
Heloise (Abelard), 264.
Helvidius, 175.
Helwys, Thomas, Baptist, 465.
Hengstenberg, E. W., theologian, 537.
Henoticon, the, 135, 154.
Henry, duke of Guise, 435, 436, 440.
Henry, German Kings and Emperors,
I (the Fowler), 216, 218; II, 218, 221;
III, rescues the papacy, 221-225; see
also 218, 223; IV, contest with the
papacy, 228-233; Canossa, 230; see
also 239; V, 233, 234; VI, 286, 287.
Henry, Kings of England, I, 233, 234;
II, 286; III, 288; IV, 301; V, 301;
VII, 321; VIII, 401-408; desires
marriage annulled, 402; marries
Anne Boleyn, 403 ; breach with Rome,
403, 404; supreme head, 404; monas
teries confiscated, 404, 407; religious
attitude, 406, 407; death, 408; parties
under, 408; see also 321, 331, 378,
412-416, 457, 463.
Henry, Kings of France, II, 381, 418,
430, 431; III, 436, 437, 440; IV, 435,
436, 440, 441, 445.
Henry, of Lausanne, radical, 248.
Heraclitus, philosopher, 3, 6, 52.
Heraclius, Emperor, 159, 160.
Herbert, Edward, of Cherbury, Deist,
487.
Herder, J. G. von, inquirer, 532, 545.
Hermann, Wilhelm, 543.
Hermas, of Rome, The Shepherd, 39 42-
46, 62, 72, 100, 102, 103, 193.
Herod Agrippa, 24.
Herod, the Great, 14, 24.
High Commission, Court, 463, 470, 475
477.
Hilary, bishop of Poitiers, 122, 123.
Hildebrand, Pope, early career, 223,
224 ; sub-deacon, 223 ; the real leader,
225-227; Pope, 228-232; Canossa.
230; aims, 229, 285; crusade pro
posed, 239; see also 212, 220, 233.
614
INDEX
Hincmar, archbishop of Rheims, 210-
213.
Hippolytus, Counter-Pope and theo
logian, 74, 75, 79, 85.
Hobbes, Thomas, philosopher, 486.
Hochstraten, Jakob, inquisitor, 335,
336.
Hodgkin, John, bishop, 414.
Hoen, Cornelius, Lord's Supper, 364.
Hoffmann, Melchior, Anabaptist, 374,
375.
Holtzmann, H. J., New Testament
scholar, 540.
Holy Spirit, see Spirit.
Homoion party, the, 122.
Homoiousion party, the, 123-125, 127,
130.
Homoousion party, the, 76, 116-128.
Honorius, Emperor, 131, 132, 187.
Honorius, Popes, I, 160, 161; II
(Counter-Pope), 227; III, 255.
Hooker, Richard, Ecclesiastical Polity,
462, 463.
Hooker, Thomas, Congregationalist,
469.
Hooper, John, bishop, 406, 412.
Hopital, Michel de 1', statesman, 432.
Hopkey, Sophy, 512.
Hopkins, Samuel, theologian, 572.
Horn, count, Netherlander, 434.
Hosius, bishop of Cordova, 115, 116,
121, 122.
Hospitallers, the, 242.
Howard, John, philanthropist, 520, 521.
Hrabanus Maurus, archbishop of
Mainz, scholar, 210, 211, 261.
Hubmaier, Balthasar, Anabaptist, 366,
367, 369.
Hugh, abbot of Cluny, 221, 224.
Hugh, of Vermandois, Crusader, 240.
Hugh, the White, cardinal, 223, 229.
Hugo, de Payens, Templar, 241.
Hugo, of St. Victor, theologian and
mystic, 266, 267, 273, 279.
Huguenots, the, 431-441, 556, 558; in
America, 566, 569.
Humbert, cardinal, 223-225, 227.
Hume, David, philosopher, 490, 491,
530, 553.
Humphrey, Laurence, Puritan, 458.
Humphreys, Joseph, Methodist, 515.
Hunting-don, Selina, countess of, 516.
Huss, John, Bohemian reformer, life
and teaching, 302-304, 306; death,
305, 309; see also 343.
Hut, Hans, Anabaptist, 369, 374.
Hutten, Ulrich von, agitator, 336, 344.
Ibas, of Edessa, theologian, 149, 156.
Iceland, Reformation in, 384.
Ignatius, Apostolic Father and mar
tyr, 40-42, 47, 48, 59, 63, 66, 96, 98.
Ignatius, of Loyola, founder of the
Jesuits, 424-426, 429.
Ignatius, patriarch of Constantinople,
213.
Image controversy, the, 162, 163.
Index, Congregation of the, 428.
Indulgences, growth of theory and
practice, 276; for purgatory, 317;
Huss, 304; Luther, 340-343.
Infant baptism, 95, 96.
Infant communion, 99, 274.
Ingersoll, Robert G., 492.
Innocent, Popes, I, 134, 135; see also
142, 187, 190; II, 247, 265; III, 286-
289; also 243, 252-254, 258, 268, 283;
IV, 254, 261, 288; VI, 296; VII, 298;
VIII, 318, 333; XI, 555; XII, 555.
Inquisition, the, established, 254;
Spanish, 324; world- wide, 424.
Interims, the, 380, 410.
Investiture, causes, 216, 224-226; the
struggle, 228-234.
Irenseus, theologian, life and teaching,
65-67; reply to Gnosticism, 60, 61,
63; see also 67, 71, 95, 98-100, 170,
330.
Irene, Empress, 163.
Irving, Edward, Catholic Apostolic
Church, 550.
Isaac II, Emperor, 243.
Isabella, Queen of Castile, 322-324,
326, 347, 402, 422.
Isidore, bishop of Seville, 193, 194.
Isis, worship of, 10, 96.
Ivo, bishop of Chartres, 233.
Jablonski, Daniel Ernst, Hussite bishop,
502, 504.
Jacob, Henry, Congregationalist, 466.
Jacobite Church, the, 158.
James, Apostle, 24.
James, the Lord's brother, 24-28.
James, epistle of, 34.
James, Kings of England and Scotland,
I (VI of Scotland), policy, 464, 466,
467; bishops in Scotland, 467, 470;
see also 416, 421 ; II (VII of Scotland),
475^78.
James V, King of Scotland, 416.
Janitors, 90, 91.
Jansen, Cornelius, theologian, 556.
Jansenism, 556, 557.
Jansenist Church, 557, 561.
Jefferson, Thomas, 492.
Jerome, of Prague, 305.
Jerome, scholar, life and work, 173-175;
the Vulgate, 174; see also 46, 138, 170,
187, 188, 190, 330.
Jesuits, origin, 425-427; abolished, 557,
558; restored, 559; see also 220, 429,
430, 444, 445, 453, 556, 560; in
America, 565.
Joachim, of Floris, 261.
Joan of Arc, 312.
Johan III, King of Sweden, 386.
John, Apostle, 23, 24, 28, 33.
INDEX
615
John, bishop of Antioch, 148.
John, bishop of Jerusalem, 187.
John Cassianus, monk and writer,
188.
John Duns Scotus, see Scotus.
John Fidanza, see Bonaventura.
John Frederick, Elector of Saxony, 371,
379, 407.
John George III, Elector of Saxony,
499.
John, Gospel of, 35, 38-40, 60, 62, 537,
539, 540.
John Hyrcanus, King of the Jews, 13.
John, King of England, 287, 288,
295.
John, of Austria, governor, 436.
John, of Damascus, theologian, 163,
164.
John, of Gaunt, 298, 299.
John, of Janden, publicist, 293.
John, of Monte Corvino, missionary,
284.
John, of Paris, political theorist, 293.
John, Popes, IV, 160; VIII, 214; XII,
215, 217; XIII, 217; XIX, 218;
XXII, 261, 278, 280* 292, 294;
XXIII, 304. 308, 309.
John, Scotus "Erigena," 210.
John, the Baptist, 16, 18, 20, 93, 94.
John, the Faster, patriarch of Con
stantinople, 191.
John, the "Steadfast," Elector of
Saxony, 355, 357-359, 371.
John Tzimiskes, Emperor, 235, 236.
John III, King of Portugal, 429.
John VIII, Emperor, 311.
Johnson, Francis, Congregationalist,
463, 466.
Johnson, Samuel, Episcopalian, 568.
Jonas, Justus, reformer, 349, 371.
Joseph, King of Portugal, 557.
Joseph II, Emperor, 492.
Joseph II, patriarch of Constanti
nople, 311.
Jovian, Emperor, 125.
Jovinianus, 175.
Juan de la Cruz, mystic, 429.
Juana, Queen of Spain, 326.
Jud, Leo, reformer, 362.
Julian, bishop of Eclanum, 187.
Julian, of Halicarnassus, 156.
Julian, the "Apostate," Emperor, 123,
124.
Julius, Popes, I, 120, 121; II, 318, 319,
402; III, 381.
Junius, Franz, theologian, 454.
Justin, Emperors, I, 154; II, 157, 190.
Justin Martyr, Apologist and theo
logian, 50-52; see also 43, 66, 68, 71,
77, 78, 92, 94, 95, 98.
Justina, Empress, 140.
Justinian, Emperors, I, theological
politician, 154-157; see also 83, 133,
134, 162, 164, 166, 190; II, 161
Kallistos, bishop of Rome, Christology,
74, 75; forgiveness, 101; the church,
103.
Kanis, Peter, Jesuit, 427.
Kant, Immanuel, philosopher, 530-535,
542, 545.
Karl Ludwig, Elector Palatine, 450.
Karlstadt, Andreas Bodenstein of, 340,
343, 349, 350, 353, 383.
Kattenbusch, Ferdinand, 543.
Keble, John, Anglo-Catholic, 547, 548.
Kempis, John a, 282.
Kempis, Thomas a, the Imitation, 282.
Kentigern, missionary, 196.
Kepler, Johann, astronomer, 483.
Kerbogha, Sultan of Mosul, 241.
Kilian, missionary, 197.
Kingsley, Charles, English broad-
church, 546.
Kirkham, Robert, at Oxford, 510.
Knights of St. John, see Hospitallers.
Knox, John, life and work, 416-422; see
also 410, 415.
Kramer, Heinrich, inquisitor, 333.
Kublai Khan, 284.
Lainez, Diego, Jesuit, 425, 427.
Laity, the, 89.
Lambert, Emperor, 215.
Lambert, Francis, reformer, 357.
Lanfranc, archbishop of Canterbury,
262, 263, 273.
Langton, Stephen, archbishop of Can
terbury, 287.
Lardner, Nathaniel, Arian, 495.
Latimer, Hugh, bishop, 406, 412.
Laud, William, archbishop of Canter
bury, 468-471.
Laurentius, martyr, 87.
Law, the canon, 292.
Law, William, Nonjuror, 488, 489, 508,
510.
League, of Schmalkalden, 373, 376, 378.
379.
League, the Catholic, in France, 436,
440.
Lectionaries, 167.
Le Fevre, Jacques, humanist, 315, 331,
386, 390.
Lefevre, Pierre, Jesuit, 425.
Legate, Bartholomew, burned, 494.
Leibnitz, Gottfried Wilhelm, philos
opher, 485, 524, 525, 533.
Leicester, the earl of, 437.
Lent, 93, 169, 213, 361.
Leo, Brother, Franciscan, 261.
Leo, Emperors, III, 162, 202; V, 206.
Leo, metropolitan of Bulgaria, 224.
Leo, Popes, I, 132, 134, 135, 150-154,
159, 161, 165, 168. 190; III, 206; IV,
212; VIII, 217; IX, 222-224, 226;
X, 261, 318, 319, 340, 342, 343, 346,
351, 384, 402, 422; XIII, 414, 562,
563.
616
INDEX
Leontius, of Byzantium, theologian,
155, 156, 163.
Lessing, Gotthold Ephraim, critic, 527,
529.
Letters of Obscure Men, the, 336.
Liberius, Pope, 122.
Liberties, the Gallican, 556, 559.
Licinius, Emperor, 109-111, 115.
Lindsey, Theophilus, Unitarian, 495.
Locke, John, philosopher, 485-487, 490,
530.
Logos, the, in Heraclitus, 3; Aristotle,
4; Stoicism, 6, 7; paralleled in He
brew "Wisdom," 16; Philo, 17;
Paul, 36; the Johannine literature,
38; Justin Martyr, 52; Irenaeus, 66;
TertuUian, 69; discussed, 71, 72;
Paul of Samosata, 73; triumphs in
West, 75, 76, 83; Clement of Alex
andria, 78; Origen, 81, 82; Neo-
Platonic, 106; Arius, 115, 144; Apol-
linaris, 144; Diodorus, 145; Cyril,
146; Leontius, 155.
Loisy, Alfred, modernist, 564.
Lombards, the, 133, 134, 159, 190-192,
203-205, 215.
Loofs, Friedrich, cited, 69, 82, 541, 543.
Lord's Supper, the, general view, 97-99;
primitive, 23; Pauline, 40, 97;
Johannine, 40, 98; Ignatius, 41, 98;
Justin Martyr, 43, 92, 98; Irenaeus,
66; the real presence, 98; a sacrifice,
99; infant communion, 99, 274; com
memorative, 99; developments, 167,
168; Augustine, 183; Gregory, 193;
Kadbertus and Ratramnus, 211;
Catharite, 250; Berengar, 262, 263;
transubstantiation, 263, 274, 288;
Aquinas, 273, 274; disuse of cup by
laity, 274; Wyclif, 300; cup to laity,
305; Luther, 345, 352, 364, 370, 411;
Zwingli, 364, 370; Calvin, 394; Eng
lish Prayer Books, 409, 410; Me-
lanchthon, 442, 443; Socinians, 453.
Lothair, Emperor, 209.
Lothair II, King, 213.
Lotze, R. H., philosopher, 542.
Louis, Kings of France, VII, 242; IX,
244, 288; XI, 320, 326; XII, 318, 320;
XIII, 441, 448; XIV, 441, 556; XV,
558; XVI, 558.
Louis, of Bavaria, imperial claimant,
278, 280, 293-295.
Louis, the "Child," 216.
Louis, the "German," Emperor, 210.
Louis, the "Pious," Emperor, 209, 219.
Loyola, Ignatius, see Ignatius.
Lucian, of Antioch theologian, 106,
114, 115, 144.
Lucius III, Pope, 251.
Luder, Peter, humanist, 327.
Luke, Gospel of, 35, 57, 60, 62, 536,
540.
Lull, bishop of Mainz, 202.
Lull, Raimon, missionary, 284.
Luther, Martin, early life, 336, 337; a
monk, 337; professor, 338; religious
experience, 338, 339, 346; theses, 340,
341; the Leipzig debate, 343, 344;
the great treatises, 344-346; at
Worms, 347, 348; the Wartburg, 348,
349; return to Wittenberg, 350; con
servatism, 350-352; public worship,
352; breach with Erasmus, 352, 353;
the Peasants' War, 353, 354; mar
riage, 355, 356; churches organized,
351, 352, 357, 358; the Short Cate
chism, 358; "Protestants," 359; dis
pute with Zwingli, 363, 364, 370; the
Marburg colloquy, 370; the Augs
burg Confession, 371-373; Philip's
bigamy, 377, 378; death, 379; see also
186, 246, 279-281, 306, 333, 334, 360,
361, 382, 391, 392, 394, 405, 415, 422,
442, 453, 481, 496, 513, 543.
Lutherans, the, churches organized, 357,
358; Augsburg Confession, 371-373;
full rights, 382; controversies, 441-
445; in America, 568, 569, 575-578,
580.
Macaulay, Zachary, Evangelical, 520.
Maccabees, Jewish rulers, 13, 14, 20.
Macedonians, the, on Holy Spirit, 125.
Magnentius, imperial pretender, 121.
Magni, Peter, bishop, Swedish suc
cession, 385.
Major, Georg, theologian, 442.
Majorinus, bishop of Carthage, 113.
Makemie, Francis, Presbyterian, 569.
Mani, religious founder, 107.
Manichseism, 107, 176-178, 235, 249.
Manning, H. E., cardinal, 549.
Manwaring, Roger, Royalist, 469.
Manz, Felix, Anabaptist, 366, 367, 369.
Marburg colloquy, see Colloquy.
Marcellus, bishop of Ancyra, 118, 120,
121, 126.
Marcian, Emperor, 151.
Marcion, Gnostic reformer, 56, 57.
Marcionites, 235.
Marcourt, Antoine, radical Protestant,
391, 392.
Marcus Aurelius, Emperor, 6, 49, 83,
85, 129.
Marguerite d'Angoule"me, 391.
Maris, the Persian, 156.
Mark, archbishop of Ephesus, 312.
Mark, Gospel of, 34, 37, 60, 62, 536,
540.
Marprelate Tracts, the, 462.
Marquette, Jacques, Jesuit explorer,
565.
Marsilius, of Padua, the Defensor Pads,
293-295, 306, 307.
Martin, bishop of Tours, 138.
Martin, Popes, I, 160, 161; V, 310, 317.
Martyrs, honored, 93, 170.
INDEX
617
Mary, of Burgundy, 326.
Mary "Queen of Scots," 409, 413, 417;
reign, 417-422; death, 439; see also
431, 438, 464. '
Mary, the Virgin; the "Second Eve,"
66; "Mother of God," 146-148, 152;
reverence for, 170, 171, 175; im
maculate conception, 278, 560.
Mary I, Queen of England, 411-413,
417, 457, 458.
Maryland, colonial religious conditions,
566.
Mather, Richard, Congregationalist,
469.
Mathys, Jan, Anabaptist, 374.
Matilda, countess of Tuscany, 226/230.
Matthew, Gospel of, 35, 38, 60, 62, 536,
540.
Matthias, Emperor, 446.
Matthias, of Janov, preacher, 302.
Maurice, J. F. D., 545, 546.
Maurice, Stadholder, 455, 456.
Maxentius, rival of Constantino, 109,
110.
Maxfleld, Thomas, Methodist, 515.
Maximilian, duke of Bavaria, 445-450.
Maximilian I, Emperor, 325, 326, 328,
335, 343, 346.
Maximilla, Montanist, 58, 59.
Maximus Daia, Emperor, 109-111.
Mayhew, Jonathan, Liberal, 573.
Medici, Cosimo de', 315.
Melanchthon, Philip, 342, 353, 357,
376; Loci Communes, 349; Augsburg
Confession, 371-373; Apology, 373;
Philip's bigamy, 377; the Leipzig
Interim, 380, 442; on Servetus, 399;
on faith, 399 ; differences from Luther,
442; contests, 442, 443; death, 443;
see also 329, 454.
Melito, of Sardis, 50.
Melville, Andrew, Scottish reformer,
432, 467.
Memnon, bishop of Ephesus, 148.
Mendoza, archbishop of Toledo, 323.
Menno Simons, Anabaptist, 375.
Mennonites, the, 375, 465, 568, 569.
Merswin, Rulman, mystic, 281.
Messianic Hope, the, 14, 15, 19-23, 39.
Methodism, development, 510-517; ef
fects of, 518-523, 544; in America,
517, 518, 572; organization there,
575, 580, 584; divisions, 584, 585;
see also 508, 524, 570, 578, 586, 589.
Methodius, bishop of Olympus, 83.
Methodius, missionary, 214.
Michael Cerularius, patriarch of Con
stantinople, 224.
Michael, Emperors, III, 213, 214;
VII, 239.
Michaelmas, 171.
Michelangelo, artist, 316.
Milicz, of Kremsier, preacher, 302.
Mill, John, Biblical scholar, 528.
Miller, William, Adventist, 582.
Mills, Samuel J., Jr., missions, 523.
Milman, H. H., dean, 545.
Milner, Isaac, Evangelical, 520.
Milner, Joseph, Evangelical, 519.
Miltitz, Karl von, 343.
Milton, John, 494.
Miracles, main Christian evidences,
452, 493, 494; criticism of, 488, 491,
525, 527, 540.
Missions, Arian, 129-134; British Is
lands, 195-200; to Germany, 201,
202, 216; under Charlemagne, 205,
206; Scandinavia, 213, 214, 236, 237;
Slavs and Russia, 214, 237; Hun
gary, 237; mediaeval to China, 284;
to Mohammedans, 284; Francis, 258,
284; Lull, 284; Roman Catholic, 429,
430; America, 565; Quaker. 479;
Halle-Danish, 500, 522; Moravian,
504, 505, 522; modern Protestant
awakening, 522, 523; American, 579,
586, 587.
Mithraism, 10, 106, 107, 169.
Modernists, the, 564.
Mohammed, 159, 160.
Molther, P. H., Moravian, 514.
Monarchians, the, Dynamic, 72, 73;
Modalistic, 72-75, 180.
Monasticism, sources and development,
104, 136-140; Benedict of Nursia,
138, 139; Benedict of Anlane, 218,
219; Cluny, 219, 220; Camaldoli,
221; Cistercians, 245, 246; Do
minicans, 254-256; Franciscans,
258-261.
Monnica, 175, 176, 178.
Monophysites, the, 135, 153-160, 312.
Monothelite controversy, the, 160, 161.
Montanism, 57-60, 62-64, 67. 71. 72,
88.
Morality, higher and lower, 103, 104.
Moravians, the, 501-507, 511-514, 532,
569, 579; also 306.
More, Hannah, Evangelical, 520.
More, Sir Thomas, 401, 404.
Moritz, duke and Elector of Saxony,
379-381, 427, 442.
Mormons, the, 582, 583.
Mosheim, J. L. von, historian, 526.
Milhlenberg, H. M., American Luth
eran, 575, 576.
Miiller, George, of Bristol, 551.
Mtinzer, Thomas, radical, 353.
Murray, John, Universalist, 576.
Murton, John, Baptist, 465.
Mystery religions, the, 9-11, 40, 44, 54,
92, 94.
Mystics, the, 279-283, 429.
Napoleon, Emperors, I, 558, 559; III,
562.
Narses, general, 133.
Neander, J. A. W., historian, 538.
618
INDEX
Neo-Platonisni, system and influence,
106, 107; Augustine, 177-180, 185;
see also 5, 76, 80, 82, 163, 266, 279,
280, 282, 327, 545.
Nero, Emperor, 33.
Nestorians, the, 149, 158, 160, 284, 312.
Nestorius, patriarch of Constantinople,
life and teaching, 145-149, 171, 187.
Netherlands, the, Protestantism in,
433-438.
New England, colonial religious con
ditions in, 567, 568.
New Jersey, colonial religious condi
tions in, 569.
New York, colonial religious conditions
in, 568, 569.
Newman, John Henry, cardinal, 547-
549.
Newton, John, Evangelical, 519.
Newton, Sir Isaac, gravitation, 483,
552.
Niceea, Council of, see Council.
Nice, Agreement of, 122.
Nicholas, of Hereford, translator, 300.
Nicholas, Popes, I, 212-215, 235; II,
226, 227; V, 312, 316.
Nicolaitanism, 220, 232, 237, 245, 246.
Niebuhr, B. G., historian, 539.
Nitschmann, David, Moravian, 504,
511.
Noailles, L. A. de, cardinal, 557.
Nobili, Roberto de, missionary, 430.
Noetus, Christology, 73.
Nogaret, William, 291.
Nominalism, 262-264, 269, 279.
Nonjurors, the, 476, 488.
Northumberland, the duke of, 410, 411.
Norway, the Reformation in, 384.
Novatian, theologian and Counter-
Pope, on the Trinity, 75, 76, 114;
schism, 102, 113, 117.
Occam, William of, schoolman, 261,
278, 279, 295, 337, 338, 364.
Ochino, Bernardino, radical, 424.
Octavian, see Pope John XII.
Odilo, abbot of Cluny, 219, 228.
Odo, abbot of Cluny. 219.
Odovaker, King of Italy, 132, 133.
CEcolampadius, Johann, reformer, 363,
364, 370.
Oglethorpe, James Edward, colonizer,
511.
Olaf, Kings of Norway, I, 236; II,
"Saint," 236, 237.
Olaf Skottkonung, King of Sweden,
237.
Old Catholics, the, 561.
Oldcastle, Sir John, Wycliflte, 301.
Oldenbarneveldt, Johan van, Armin-
ian, 454, 455.
Olevianus, Kaspar, theologian, 443,
472.
Olga, Queen of Russia, 237.
Omar, Caliph, 160.
Ordination, 89, 90.
Origen, life and theology, 78-83; chief
works, 80; threefold sense of Scrip
ture, 80, 81; fundamentals, 81; a
Platonist, 81 ; God and Christ, 81, 82;
salvation, 82; final restoration, 83;
significance, 83 ; in Arian controversy,
114-117, 122, 123, 125, 127; con
demned, 83, 142, 156, 157; see also
85, 92, 95, 103, 105, 106, 171, 174,
175, 180, 330.
Osiander, Andreas, reformer, 442.
Ostrogoths, the, 130, 133-135.
Oswald, King, 199.
Oswy, King, 199.
Othman, Caliph, 160.
Otto, Emperors, I, 215-217; II, 217;
III, 217, 218; IV, 287, 290.
Oxenstjerna, statesman, 449.
Pachomius, monastic founder, 137, 138.
Pack, Otto von, 358.
Paine, Thomas, radical, 492.
Paley, William, Apologist, 493, 494.
Pantsenus, of Alexandria, 77.
Papacy, early steps toward, 63-65, 70,
71, 76; Constantinople, 112, 113;
Sardica, 121; Theodosius and Gra-
tian, 127; growth in fifth century,
134-136; claims of Gelasius, 135;
theological triumphs, 161; influence
of Augustine's theories, 184; Gregory
the Great, 190, 191; the Franks, 191,
195, 202-208; the Decretals, 212, 213;
Nicholas I, 212, 213; rescued by Otto
I and Henry III, 217, 221, 222;
Cluny reform, 222-225: break with
empire, 225-228; electoral reform,
226, 227; Hildebrand's struggle, 228-
232; compromise, 233, 234; leader
ship in Crusades, 233, 239-241; at
height, 285-288; Innocent III, 286-
288; dependence on France, 288, 289;
Philip IV, 290-292; unam sanctam,
291; Avignon, 291, 292; critics, 293-
295; defenders, 295; English op
position, 295; taxation, 296; return
to Rome, 296, 297; schism, 297, 298;
councils, 306-313; Italian princes,
317-320; since the Reformation, 555-
564; infallibility, 561; temporal
sovereignty, 562.
Parish, origin of the, 166, 208.
Parker, Matthew, archbishop of Can
terbury, 414, 458.
Parma, Margaret of, Regent, 433.
Parsons, Robert, Jesuit, 438, 440.
Pascal, Blaise, critic of Jesuits, 556.
Paschal II, Pope, 233.
Patrick, missionary, 195, 196.
Patripassians, the, 73.
Paul, Apostle, life and work, 26-30;
freedom, 28-30; theology, 30-32, 66;
INDEX
619
Christology, 36, 37; writings as
"Scripture," 62; death, 30, 63; see
also 6, 14, 40, 44-47, 55-57, 94, 186,
339.
Paul, of Samosata, Christology, 72, 73,
83, 105, 106, 116, 144, 145, 235.
Paul, Popes, II, 317; III, 375, 378, 380,
381, 423-427; IV, see Caraffa.
Paul, the Deacon, 207.
Paulicians, the, 235, 236, 249.
Paulinus, bishop of York, 199.
Paulinus, of Milan, 186.
Paulus, H. E. B., rationalist, 537, 540.
Peace, of Augsburg, 382, 430, 443, 445,
446.
Peace, of Cambrai, 358.
Peace, of Prague, 449.
Peace, of Westphalia, 450, 451.
Peirce, James, Arian, 494.
Pelagius, theologian, and Pelagianism,
life and teaching, 185-188; the
"Semi-Pelagians," 188-190; see also
148, 175, 189, 455.
Pelagius II, Pope, 190.
Penn, William, Quaker, 480.
Pennsylvania, colonial religious condi
tions, 569.
Pentecost, 169.
Persecutions, Nero, 33, 63; Domitian,
34; for the "name," 48; Trajan and
Pliny, 49; Hadrian to Commodus, 49,
85; charges, 49, 50, 84; Septimius
Severus, 67, 79, 85; to Decius, 84, 85;
systematic under Decius and Vale
rian, 85-87, 101; the lapsed, 86, 101,
102, 109; Diocletian, 109-111.
Peter, Apostle, Christ's resurrection.
21; Pentecost, 22; leadership, 23-
28; Christology, 35; death, 33, 63.
Peter, bishop of Alexandria, 127.
Peter, Damiani, cardinal, 221, 224, 226,
276.
Peter Lombard, theologian, 266, 267,
273, 303, 338.
Peter, of Bruys, radical, 248.
Peter, of Castelnau, legate, 253.
Peter, the "Fuller," bishop of Antioch,
153.
Peter, the Hermit, Crusader, 239,
240.
Petersson, Lars, reformer, 385.
Petersson, Olaf, reformer, 385.
Petrarch, humanist, 314.
Pfefferkorn, Johann, agitator, 335.
Pfleiderer, Otto, 543.
Pharisees, the, 13, 14, 16, 19, 20, 26.
Philip, the Arabian, Emperor, 85, 86.
Philip, Kings of France, II (August),
243, 287; IV, 242, 290-292; V, 293.
Philip, landgrave of Hesse, 355-359;
Marburg colloquy, 370; bigamy, 376-
378; defeat and imprisonment, 379.
Philip, of Austria, 326.
Philip, of Swabia, 287.
Philip II, of Spain, 411-413, 430-441;
see also 381, 420.
Philo, of Alexandria, 17, 18, 26, 76, 77,
80.
Photius, patriarch of Constantinople,
213, 224, 235, 237.
Pico, della Mirandola, philosopher, 315,
328.
Pictures, reverence for, 162, 163, 172.
Pietism, 496-501 ; see also 502, 504, 524-
529, 570, 575, 578, 584.
Pilate, Pontius, 15, 19.
Pilatus, Leontius, teacher of Greek,
314.
Pippin, mayor of palace, 200, 201.
Pippin, the Short, King of the Franks,
200-205, 208, 215.
Pius, Popes, II, 305, 316, 317; V, 428,
434; VI, 558; VII, 558-560; IX, 278,
549, 560-562; X, 292, 563, 564, 586.
Plato, 3-5; influence, 17, 51, 77, 80, 81,
145, 269, 315, 532.
Plethon, Gemistos, Platonist, 315.
Pliny, governor, 42, 49.
Plotinus, Neo-Platonist, 106.
Plutarch, religious reformer, 9.
PlUtschau, Heinrich, missionary, 500.
Plymouth Brethren, the, 551.
Pole, Reginald, archbishop of Canter
bury, 375, 411, 423.
Polo, Maffeo, Marco, and Nicolo,
travellers, 284.
Polycarp, bishop of Smyrna, 40, 42, 49,
59, 62, 64, 65.
Polycrates, bishop of Ephesus, 65.
Pombal, marquis of, 492, 557.
Pontianus, bishop of Rome, 85.
Pontitianus, 177.
Porphyry, Neo-Platonist, 106, 262.
Pothinus, bishop of Lyons, 65.
Poverty, "Apostolic," 246, 247, 251,
255, 258-261, 295, 299, 303.
Prxmunire, statute of, 295, 403.
Pragmatic sanction, the, 313, 319, 321.
Praxeas, Christology, 73.
Prayer Books, English, 409, 410, 414,
417.
Preaching, 167, 168.
Presbyterians, English, 470-474, 477,
494, 495, 519, 550; American, 566,
569-571, 573, 579, 580; divisions.
584-586; also 589.
Presbyters, early, 23, 45-48; duties, 90;
compensation, 166.
Prierio, against Luther, 342.
Priestley, Joseph, Unitarian, 495.
Printing, invention of, 315.
Prisca. Montanist, 58.
Proclus, Neo-Platonist, 279.
Proles, Andreas, monastic reformer,
337.
Propaganda, Congregation of the, 430,
586.
Protestant, the name, 359.
620
INDEX
Protestant Episcopal, see Church of
England in America.
Provisors, statute of, 295.
Provoost, Samuel, bishop, 574.
Pseudo-Dionysius (writings attributed
to Dionysius the Areopagite), 171,
210, 266, 269, 270, 279.
Pseudo-Isidorian Decretals, see De
cretals.
Ptolemy Philadelphus, 17.
Pufendorf, Samuel, jurist, 486.
Pulcheria, Empress, 147, 150, 151.
Purgatory, 193, 277.
Puritans, the, aims, 415, 458; two
stages, 458, 460; the struggle, 460-
473.
Pusey, Edward Bouverie, Anglo-
Catholic, 548, 549.
Pyrrho, Sceptic, 6.
Pythagoreans, the, 3, 51.
Quadratus, Apologist, 50.
Quakers, the, 477-480; see also 368, 519,
520; in American colonies, 566, 568-
570.
Quesnel, Pasquier, Jansenist, 556, 557.
Quinones, Fernandez de, liturgist, 409.
Radbertus, Paschasius, Lord's Supper,
211, 262, 273.
Radewyn, Florentius, mystic, 281.
Raikes, Robert, Sunday-schools, 521,
522.
Raimond, of Toulouse, Crusader, 240.
Raphael, painter, 316.
Ratramnus, Lord's Supper, 211, 262.
Raymond, du Puy, Hospitaller, 242.
Readers, 90, 91.
Realism, 262, 264, 269.
Recared, Visigothic King, 134, 191.
Reformed, in America (Dutch), 568,
569, 575, 579, 589; (German), 569,
575, 589.
Reimarus, Hermann Samuel, radical
Critic, 526-529, 540.
Reinhard, Martin, reformer, 383.
Relics, reverence for, 93, 172.
Religions, Mystery, see Mystery.
Relly, James, Universalist, 576.
Remonstrants, the, 455, 456.
Renaissance, the, 313-317, 326-332;
ideal of reform, 331.
Renan, Ernst, 541.
Renee, duchess of Ferrara, 395, 402,
423.
Reuchlin, Johann, humanist, 315, 328,
329, 335, 336, 342.
Reunion conferences, the, 376, 424.
Revolution, the French, 558.
Reynolds, Edward, bishop, 474.
Rhode Island, colonial religious condi
tions, 568.
Ricci, Matteo, missionary, 430.
Riccio, David, 420, 421.
Richard, Kings of England, I, 243;
II, 301, 302.
Richard, of Middletown, schoolman,
277.
Richelieu, statesman, 441, 448.
Ridley, Nicholas, 406, 412.
Rienzi, Cola di, 296.
Ritschl, Albrecht, theologian, 541-544.
Robert, of Normandy, Crusader, 240.
Robert de Sorbon, founder, 268.
Robertson, F. W., broad-church, 546.
Robinson, John, Congregationalist,
465, 466.
Rodriguez, Simon, Jesuit, 425.
Rogers, John, burned, 412.
Roman Catholics, in America, 565—
568, 573, 574, 579, 585, 586.
Romuald, monastic reformer, 220, 221.
Romulus Augustulus, 132.
Roscelin, schoolman, 263, 264, 279.
Rose, Hugh James, Anglo-Catholic,
547.
Rothad, bishop of Soissons, 213.
Rothe, Johann Andreas, Pietist, 502,
503.
Rothmann, Bernt, Anabaptist, 375.
Rotislav, duke of Moravia, 214.
Roubli, Wilhelm, Anabaptist, 366, 367.
Rousseau, Jean Jacques, 529.
Roussel, Gerard, Calvin's friend, 390,
391.
Rubeanus, Crotus, humanist, 336.
Rudolf, Emperors, I, 290; II, 446.
Rudolf, of Swabia, 231.
Ruflnus, scholar, 173.
Ruquesens, Luis de, governor, 436.
Rusticus, Roman magistrate, 50.
Ruysbroeck, John of, mystic, 281.
Sabellius, and Sabellianism, 73-75. 83,
105, 114, 265; Nicene result seems,
117, 122, 124.
Saccas, Ammonius, Neo-Platonist, 80,
106.
Sacraments, the, Augustine, 183; Aqui
nas, 273; Scotus, 278; Luther, 345.
Sadducees, the, 13.
Sadoleto, Jacopo, cardinal, 375, 396,
423.
Saints, aid of, 170, 193, 277.
Saisset, Bernard, legate, 290.
Saladin, 242.
Sale, Margarete von der, 377.
Sales, Francois de, Roman missionary,
429.
Salmeron, Alfonso, Jesuit, 425, 427.
Salvation, primitive, 23, 24; Pauline,
31, 66; Johannine, 40; Ignatius, 41,
66; Greek and Latin, 41, 167, 168,
173; Justin Martyr, 51, 52; Gnostic,
54-56; Marcion, 56; Irenseus, 66;
Tertullian, 68, 69; Origen, 82; Neo-
Platonic, 107; Athanasius, 118; Nes-
torius, 145, 146; Cyril, 146, 153;
INDEX
621
Augustine, 182; Cathari, 250; Aqui
nas, 272, 277, 291; Scotus, 277, 278;
Boniface VIII, 291; Luther, 338-
340, 368; Anabaptist, 368; Calvin,
393; Socinians, 453; Pietist, 497;
Methodist, 513; Ritschlian, 543 ; An
glo-Catholic, 548; American, 578,
584. 585.
Salvation Army, the, 551.
Sampson, Thomas, Puritan, 458.
Sancroft, William, archbishop of Can
terbury, 476.
Saravia, Adrian, Anglican, 462.
Satornilus, Gnostic, 56.
Sattler, Michael, Anabaptist, 368, 369.
Savonarola, Girolamo, reformer, 256,
319, 320.
Schell, Hermann, modernist, 564.
Schelling, F. W. J. von, philosopher,
534, 545.
Schiller, J. C. F. von, poet, 527, 530.
Schleiermacher, F. D. E., life and influ
ence, 532-535, 537, 538, 542, 545.
Schmalkaldic League, see League.
Scholasticism, 245, 261-267, 269-279.
Schwartz, Christian Friedrich, mission
ary, 500.
Sciffl, Clara, Franciscan, 259.
Scory, John, bishop, 414.
Scotland, Reformation in, 415-422;
Episcopacy and Presbyterianism un
der the Stewarts, 467, 470, 477, 478;
the covenants, 470, 471; Presby
terianism established, 478; tolera
tion, 478, 552; patronage, 552, 554;
divisions, 553, 554; Moderatism, 553,
554; Chalmers, 554; reunions, 554,
555.
Scott, Sir Walter, 544.
Scott, Thomas, Evangelical, 519, 523.
Scotus, John Duns, schoolman, 277,
278, 453.
Scripture. New Testament as, 34, 35,
61, 62; threefold sense, 80, 81; sole
authority, 279, 344, 361, 362, 392;
printed, 324, 332.
Seabury, Samuel, bishop, 574.
Seeberg, Reinhold, 126, 127, 543.
Selnecker, Nikolaus, theologian, 443,
444.
Semler, Johann Salomo, Biblical schol
ar, 529, 532, 536.
Seneca, Stoic, 6, 8. 390, 391.
Septuagint, the, 17.
Serapis, worship of, 10.
Sergius, patriarch of Constantinople,
160, 161.
Sergius, Pope, 201.
Servetus, Miguel, Anti-Trinitarian,
399, 451, 452.
Severus, bishop of Antioch, 156.
Seymour, Jane, Queen, 405, 408.
Shaftesbury, the earl of, moralist, 486,
487.
Sharp, James, archbishop of St. An
drews, 477.
Siegfried, archbishop of Mainz, 228.
Sigismund, Emperor, 304, 305, 308, 309.
Silvester, Popes, II, 218; III, 221.
Simeon, Charles, Evangelical, 520.
Simeon, head of Jerusalem church, 25.
Simeon Stylites, hermit, 137.
Simon Magus, 56.
Simony, 220, 224, 238, 245.
Simplicius, Pope, 165.
Sin, and forgiveness, in general, 100-
102, 173; unto death. 100; absolvers,
101; Kallistos's decree, 101; No-
vatian, 102; all sins forgivable, 102;
Tertullian, 68; Cyprian, 95; Am
brose, 141; Augustine. 181; Pelagian,
185, 186; Aquinas, 272; Peter Lom
bard, 275; Scotus, 278; Cathari te,
249, 250; Luther, 339, 345; Calvin,
393; Jesuit, 426; Westminster Con
fession, 472; Edwards, 572.
Sixtus. Popes, II, 87; IV, 317, 322, 324;
V, 440.
Smith, Joseph, Mormon, 582, 583.
Smyth, John, Baptist, 465.
Societies, Bible, 521, 560.
Societies, the English, 508, 513, 515.
Societies, tract, 521.
Society for Promoting Christian Knowl
edge, 508, 521.
Society for the Propagation, 508, 522,
566. 568.
Socinianism, 330, 451-453, 494.
Socrates, 3, 52.
Somerset, the protector. 408-410.
Sophronius, bishop of Jerusalem, 160.
Sorbonne, the, 268.
Soto, Domingo de, theologian, 324.
Sozzini (Sozini), the, Fausto. 452;
Lelio, 452.
Spangenberg, A. G., Moravian, 504-
506, 511.
Sparks, Jared, Unitarian, 577.
Spener, Philipp Jakob, Pietist, 496-
499; see also 500-503. 508.
Spinoza, Baruch, philosopher, 484, 485,
532, 533.
Spirit, the Holy, Paul's doctrine, 57;
distinguished, 58; Tertullian, 69;
Sabellius, 74; Origen, 82, 124;
Athanasius, 124; Macedonians, 125;
the Nicene creed, 128; Augustine,
178-182; Calvin, 393; Protestant
ism, 481.
Spirituals, the. 361.
Sprenger, Jakob, inquisitor, 333.
Stanley, A. P., broad-church, 546.
Staupitz, Johann, Luther's monastic
superior, 337, 338.
Stephanas, 44, 48.
Stephen, martyr, 24.
Stephen, Popes, I, 97; II, 204; V, 215;
VI, 215; IX, 225.
622
INDEX
Stephen I, " Saint," King of Hungary,
237.
Stewart, James, earl of Moray, 420-
422.
Stilicho, general, 131.
Stoicism, teaching, 6, 7; at Tarsus, 6,
26; Tertullian, 67-69; Clement and
Origen, 77-80; Pelagius, 185; see also
. 16, 51, 52.
Storch, Nikolaus, radical, 350.
Strauss, D. F., critic, 539-541.
Strawbridge, Robert, Methodist, 517.
Stiibner, Markus Thoma, radical, 350.
Sturm, abbot of Fulda, 201.
Sub-Deacons, 90.
Succession, apostolical, 48, 60, 61, 68.
Sunday-schools, 521, 522, 579.
Supererogation, works of, 43, 103, 104,
272.
Suso, Henry, mystic, 281.
Sweden, Reformation in, 384-386.
Symeon, "Metaphrastes," 235.
Symeon, the "New Theologian," 235.
Synods, of Aries, 113, 115, 121, 195;
Antioch, 120, 130, 164; Dort, 455,
456; Milan, 121; "the Oak," 142;
Orange, 189; Sirmiurn, 122; Tou
louse, 253, 254.
Taborites, the, 305, 306.
Tancred, Crusader, 240.
Tatian, Apologist, 50.
Tauler, John, mystic, 256, 280, 281,
339.
Tausen, Hans, reformer, 383.
Taylor, Nathaniel W., theologian, 584.
Teaching of the Twelve Apostles, the,
42, 45, 95-97, 100, 103.
Templars, the, 241, 242, 292.
Tennent, Gilbert, Revivalist, 571.
Tennent, William, teacher, 571.
Tennyson, Alfred, Lord, broad-church,
546.
Tertiaries, the, 260.
Tertullian, theologian, life and teach
ing, 67-72; a Montanist, 59, 67;
Apostles' Creed, 61; baptism, 94-97,
166; Christology, 69, 71, 73-75, 114,
143, 180; "priest," 99; see also 89,
103, 175, 180, 188, 481.
Tetzel, Johann, indulgences, 340, 341,
343.
Teutonic Knights, the, 242, 355, 357.
Theodore, archbishop of Canterbury,
199.
Theodore, of Mopsuestia, theologian,
145, 147, 156, 157.
Theodoret, of Cyrus, theologian, 148,
156.
Theodoric, Ostrogothic King, 133.
Theodosius, Emperors, I, 126-128, 131,
140, 141; II, 147, 148, 150, 151.
Theodotus, Christology, "the cur
rier," 72; "the money-changer," 72.
Theognis, bishop of Nicaea, 117.
Theopaschite controversy, the, 156.
Theophilus, bishop of Alexandria, 142.
Tholuck, F. A. G., theologian, 538.
Thomas Aquinas, see Aquinas.
Thomas, of Stitney, preacher, 302.
Thomasius, Christian, rationalist, 499,
524.
Three Chapters, the, 156.
Throckmorton, Job, Puritan, 462.
Tiberius II, Emperor, 157.
Tillet, Louis du, Calvin's friend, 391.
Tilly, general, 446-449.
Timothy, 29.
Timothy, bishop of Alexandria, 153.
Tindal, Matthew, Deist, 487, 488.
Tiridates, King of Armenia, 158.
Tithes, 208, 335, 354.
Titus, 28.
Titus, Emperor, 25.
Toland, John, Deist, 487.
Toplady, Augustus, and Wesley, 516.
Torquemada, Tomas, inquisitor, 324.
Trajan, Emperor, 42, 49.
Travers, Walter, Puritan, 460, 462.
Treaty, of Cateau-Cambresis, 431; of
Passau, 381; of Verdun, 209, 210.
Tregelles, S. P., Plymouth Brethren,
551.
Trie, Guillaume, and Calvin, 399.
Trinity, the, formulae, 58; Tertullian,
69, 70; Novatian, 74, 75; Augustine,
179, 180; Abelard, 265.
Troeltsch, Ernst, 544.
Truce of God, the, 220.
Truchsess, Gebhard, archbishop of
Cologne, 445.
Turks, conquests, 236, 238, 284, 285,
356, 357.
Tyndale, William, translator, 405, 406.
Tyrrell, George, modernist, 564.
Ugolino, cardinal, see Pope Gregory
IX.
Ulflla, missionary, 129, 130.
Ulrich, duke of WUrttemberg, 365, 374.
Ultramontanism, 559-562, 564.
Unitarians, in England, 477, 494, 495,
524, 550; in America, 573, 577, 578,
580, 586.
Universalists, in America, 573, 576, 577,
586.
Universities, medteval, 267-269; fif
teenth century, 326-328.
Unni, missionary, 236.
Urban, Popes, II, 232, 233, 239-241.
276; IV, 288; V, 296, 297; VI, 297;
VIII, 556.
Ursacius, bishop of Singidunum, 121.
Ursinus, Zacharias, theologian, 443.
Utraquists, the, 305, 306, 310.
Valdes, Juan, reformer, 423.
Valdez, see Waldenses.
INDEX
623
Valens, bishop of Mursa, 121, 122.
Valens, Emperor. 125, 127, 131.
Valentinian, Emperors, I, 125; II, 128,
140; III, 132, 148, 165.
Valentinus, Gnostic, 55, 56.
Valerian, Emperor, 86, 87.
Valerius, bishop of Hippo, 178.
Valla, Lorenzo, critic, 205, 315.
Vandals, the, 130-134, 178, 188.
Vasa, Gustaf, King of Sweden, 385,
386.
Vasey, Thomas, Methodist, 517, 575.
Vatable, Francois, teacher, 390.
Venn, John, missions, 523.
Vergilius, bishop of Aries, 198.
Vermigli, Pietro Martire, reformer,
423.
Victor, Popes, I, 65, 72; II, 224, 225;
III, 232; IV (Counter-Pope), 285.
Victor Emmanuel II, King of Italy,
562.
Victorinus, Neo-Platonist, 177.
Vigilantius, 175.
Vigilius, Pope, 157.
Vincent, of L6rins, 188.
Vinci, Leonard! da, 316.
Viret, Pierre, reformer, 395.
Virgil, missionary, 197.
Virginia, colonial religious conditions,
566.
Visigoths, the, 127, 129-134, 159, 160.
Vitalian, Pope, 199.
Vittoria, Francisco de, theologian, 324.
Vladimir, grand-duke of Russia, 237.
Voltaire, 492, 557.
Vulgate, the, 174.
Waldenses, the, 251-254, 306, 387.
Wallace, Alfred Russel, scientist, 552.
Wallenstein, Albrecht von, 446-449.
War, Thirty Years', the, 446-451, 503,
555.
Ware, Henry, Unitarian, 577.
Watt, James, inventor, 507.
Watts, Isaac, hymn-writer, 508.
Webb, Thomas, Methodist, 517.
Wedgwood, Josiah, inventor, 507.
Wenzel, King of Bohemia, 303, 304.
Wesley, Charles, 509-517.
Wesley, John, 509-518; see also 456,
508, 519, 520, 528, 567, 575.
Wesley, Samuel, 508-511.
Wesley, Susanna, 509.
Westminster Assembly, see Assembly
and Confession.
Wettstein, J. J., Biblical scholar, 528.
Whatcoat, Richard, Methodist, 517,
575.
White, William, bishop, 574, 575.
Whitefleld, George, Evangelist, 510-
514; in America, 567, 571; see also
509, 519, 576, 578.
Whitgift, John, archbishop of Canter
bury, 459, 460, 462, 464, 465.
Wibert, Counter-Pope, 231-233.
Wied, Hermann von, 409.
Wightman, Edward, burned, 494.
Wilberforce, William, Evangelical, 520.
Wilcox, Thomas, Puritan, 460.
Wilfrid, bishop of York, 199.
Wilhelm, duke of Cleves, 378.
William I, the Conqueror, 228.
William III, and Mary, of England and
Scotland, 476-478, 552.
William, of Champeaux, schoolman,
264, 267.
William, of Occam, see Occam.
William, of Orange, "the Silent," 434-
437.
William, the Pious, founder of Cluny,
219.
Williams, Roger, 568.
Willibrord, missionary, 201.
Wimpina, Konrad, 341.
Winchester, Elhanan, Unlversalist, 576,
577.
Winfrid, see Boniface.
Winthrop, John, Congregationalist,
469.
Wisdom, Jewish conception of, 16, 17;
Pauline, 36.
Wishart, George, burned, 416.
Witchcraft, 333, 445.
Wolff, Christian, philosopher, 524-526,
530-532.
Wolfgang, of Anhalt, 359, 371.
Wolflin, Heinrich, humanist, 360.
Wolsey, Thomas, cardinal, 402, 403.
Worms, Concordat of, see Concordat.
Worship, of Emperors, 8, 9, 49.
Wrede, William, scholar, 544.
Wtenbogaert, Johan, Arminian, 454.
Wyclif, John, English reformer, life
and work, 298-304; see also 306, 332,
405.
Wyttenbach, Thomas, humanist, 360.
Xavier, Francis, missionary, 425, 429,
430.
Ximenes, Spanish reformer, 323, 324,
331, 422.
Young, Brigham, Mormon, 582, 583.
Young Men's Christian Association,
the, 588.
Young Women's Christian Association,
the, 588.
Zacharias, Pope, 203, 215.
Zbynek, archbishop of Prague, 303,
304.
Zeisberger, David, missionary, 505.
Zell, Matthew, reformer, 363.
Zeno, Emperor, 135, 154, 165.
Zeno, Stoic, 6.
Zephyrinus, Pope, 74.
Ziegenbalg, Bartholomaus, mission
ary, 500.
624 INDEX
Zinzendorf, Moravian founder, 502- religious development, 361, 362;
507 513; in America, 575. marriage, 363; disputes with Luther,
Zizka, John, Hussite, 305. 363, 364, 370; political plans, 365;
Zosimus, Pope, 187. opposes Anabaptists, 366, 367; the
Zwilling, Gabriel, radical, 349. Marburg colloquy, 370; confession,
Zwingli, Huldreich, life and work, 360- 372 ; death, 365, 373 ; see also 394,
366; education, 360; at Zurich, 361: 415.
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